Part III: The Journey

Chapter Eleven

Jess gazed through the ship's view-screen at the massive space station where he had lived for most of his life. Discovery Station. The name was so promising, implied so much hope for the future. In reality it was a cesspit. There was no promise here, just load after load of ore from the asteroid belt being processed into the raw materials for an empire. Or maybe a federation, Jess thought with wry humor. It hardly mattered who was in charge of the station. All he cared about was getting his sister and returning for Bragan.

They'd been forced to leave the doctor behind. He had removed the slave implants from most of the men successfully, but even with all his training, ten of the men had died. No one had been even close to being capable of removing Bragan's implant. The irony of the situation was hardly lost on Jess. When he and Bethany had set out for Discovery Station nearly two months before, he had promised Bragan that he would return with a doctor to rescue him. Jess had every intention of keeping that promise. He figured they would be able to shave about 20 days off their return trip if he could trade the ore freighter they were traveling in now for something smaller and faster. It seemed likely that they'd be able to. There was always a demand on Discovery for freighters. In addition, the ore they carried was worth a small fortune.

It should be more than enough to cover their needs.

The ship shuddered beneath him as he turned away from the viewing portal. They were docked at one of the ore processing centers while their cargo was unloaded. He'd already negotiated a decent price, although he hadn't been able to glean much information. The sale had been made long-distance.

The refining plant itself was completely automated. It would take them another 26 hours to unload all the cargo, and then he and Bethany would go to the main station. The thought of it made his stomach hurt.

If he wasn't very, very careful, she might be able to get away from him there.

He walked back toward the small cabin they had made their own for the past two months. She had already packed what few things they had into a small rucksack. Now she was in the fresher, cleaning up.

He could hear her singing a little song, her voice slightly out of tune. She was always singing like that.

He'd asked her once if they were Pilgrim songs, and she'd given an embarrassed laugh. She'd made them up all by herself. He'd found himself humming them off and on as time went by. Just one more thing about Bethany that fascinated him.

Another shudder shook the ship, filling Jess with a sense of desperation. The past two months had been like some kind of wonderful dream. They'd been living for the moment, some days not even bothering to get out of bed. Now it was all ending. He needed to be close to her.

Quickly, he pulled off his shirt and pants, kicking them to one side of the bed, then let himself into the fresher unit. There she was, standing in the sonic shower unit with both arms stretched above her body. Her eyes were closed as she relaxed in the gentle waves that cleaned her body. She was so beautiful, he thought. High, firm breasts. A softly curving back, each muscle clearly defined by years of hard work. His cock leapt to attention, and he stepped in with her. She gave a little startled gasp, then turned toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Without speaking, they kissed. His erection, trapped between them, throbbed with need. He could feel one of her legs rubbing up and down the backs of his, and then he reached down to cup her butt firmly. He lifted her body, bracing it against the shower wall. She wrapped both legs around his waist, and they writhed together, skin stimulating skin in a way that seemed almost electric.

It was perfect.

He rubbed his cock against her belly again, enjoying the slow torture of being so close without penetration. He wanted to dive into her body with his; at the same time, he also wanted to simply savor the moment, allowing himself to be close to her.

If she managed to escape, this could be the last time he held her like this. The thought was intolerable. He was filled with a sudden need to mark her, to claim her as his. He wanted her to know with every fiber of her being who she belonged to. She was his. He would die before he allowed another man to touch her.

He pulled back with his hips, then thrust forward into her. She gasped, clutching him tightly, and he thrust again.

"Jess," she moaned. Her voice was needy, almost painful with desire. He grunted, and pushed into her again. He could feel his cock bumping up against her cervix, feel her body shuddering in response.

He knew by now that nothing sent her over the edge faster than such deep, hard penetration. He would make her scream before he was done. The ship rocked again, and they bumped again the wall of the shower. As he slipped out of her, she laughed.

"Let's go into the bedroom," she whispered. "This could get dangerous."

He nodded, and stepped out of the shower while still supporting her body. He carried her into the bedroom and lowered her to the bed slowly, kissing her as he did. He followed her body down, but before he could come back into her, she pushed up, rolling him to one side.

"It's my turn," she said with a laugh. "You don't always have to be in charge, Jess."

"Yes, I do," he said, unwilling to joke. She scrambled away from him, sitting up on her knees and crossing her arms in front of her chest. Her face turned serious.

"You don't," she said quietly. "You can't expect me to be your prisoner forever, you know. Have you considered that maybe we need to form a partnership, here? If you can't trust me even a little bit, we're not going to get very far."

"I trust you," he said tightly. "Don't I sleep next to you every night? You could strangle me; you could do all kinds of things to me."

"I know," she said. "You trust me not to kill you. But you don't seem to be able to trust me to think for myself. Not even in bed. You never give up control, do you?"

"I've spent most of my life without control," he said. "I'm not going to go back to living that other way ever again. You can forget that."

"I don't want to control your life," she replied, shaking her head. "But I would like to share control of our relationship. I thought you didn't believe in slavery."

"I don't," he said in frustration. He hated it when she talked like this. She just didn't understand how important it was to him that they stay together. Just the thought of her leaving him was enough to make him sick. And he had no reason to believe she would stay of her own free will. If he were in her situation, he would try to escape.

The feeling that he was being a hypocrite washed over him for the hundredth time, but he ruthlessly pushed the feeling of guilt back. He had been through enough already. He wasn't going to give her up.

Not now, not ever.

She rolled off the bed, then reached over to pull on a dress.

"What are you doing?" he asked roughly.

"I'm getting dressed," she replied in a cool voice.

"What about finishing what we started in the fresher?" he asked, as a tight knot started growing in his chest.

"What about it?" she asked. "I was under the impression we were having consensual sex. But that kind of thing involves two partners, not a man and his receptacle. If you want to finish it, you'll have to rape me."

She stood facing him, hands clenched tightly on both hips. The knot in his chest grew heavier. He was losing her already.

"You won't have sex with me?"

"I'll have sex with my lover," she said. "You're my captor. I suppose you have the option of raping me."

He stared at her, utterly confused. How had she managed to turn this into rape? His cock was throbbing, but it was nothing to the pain inside of his heart. They had fucked a hundred times; he'd never felt low and dirty before now. Somehow she'd tied him up neatly in a little knot and made him feel like a criminal. How had she done it?

"I'm going to go look through the viewing port," she said, turning and walking about of the room.

Jess felt naked and foolish. He had to find some clothing, had to find a way to regain control of the situation.

He had never felt so alone in his life.

* * *

Jess' hand gripped her arm tightly as they stepped through the airlock several hours later. He had warned her not to say a thing when they entered the space station. He seemed to be afraid she was going to try and escape. Of course, she didn't know that for sure, as they had hardly spoken since their abortive session in the shower. Not that he needed to worry.

It was all she could do to put one foot ahead of the next.

Never in her life had she seen anything like the Discovery Station port. She couldn't have even imagined something like it existed. There were hundreds of people all around them, each dressed differently. They were all sizes and colors, although most seemed to be essentially human. The women were the most amazing. All her life she had been taught that females should be modest, obedient, but these women walked and talked like men. They even wore tight, form-fitting clothing that showed off their every movement.

Some of them wore hardly any clothing at all.

She watched in wide-eyed amazement as one, wearing only bits of feathers attached to some kind of string and draped around her breasts and waist, walked up to Jess and kissed him deeply on the mouth.

"Why don't you park the wife and come visit with me?" she asked him seductively. Bethany stiffened terrified by her suggestion. What was going on here? To Bethany's horror, Jess simply laughed.

"I have other business to take care of," he said. "Maybe another time."

"Any time for you," she said. "Just ask for Mary. You can always find me if you ask."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, laughing. Bethany fumed.

He tugged at her arm, pulling her to the center of the massive corridor.

"There's a transit tube here," he said. "We'll take it to the center of the station; I've reserved a room for us there. Then I need to take care of some business."

"Are you going to sell the ship?" she asked, wondering what other kinds of business he had in mind.

Would he be going back to see Mary once he got rid of her?

"Yes," he replied. He pulled her through the crowd, and she soon forgot to be angry.

Trying to see everything around her while keeping up with him was nearly impossible. She watched with wide eyes as the crowd swirled around them, unable to imagine why he was afraid she'd run away from him in this place; she was simply terrified that they'd get separated.

He pulled her on to a small platform, and then a pod-like vehicle was pulling up next to them. The door opened, and a rush of people came out. Jess pulled her inside, gesturing for her to sit down on a plast-crete molded bench. The doors slid shut, and the pod started moving at an incredible speed. She closed her eyes, feeling dizzy.

"All the ships have to dock on the station's outer concourses,” he said. "If we tried to walk the entire way, we could spend the next ten hours trying to get there. In fact, we're lucky to have gotten a docking place at all; sometimes ships are placed in a holding pattern and you have to ride a shuttle in."

She nodded, pretending to understand him. She was trying to figure out just how big Discovery Station really was. The entire mining station she'd grown up on could have easily fit in this corridor alone.

They had only traveled a few minutes when the pod came to a stop. Jess tugged her arm and they stood. The doors slid open, and a rush of people came at them. She cowered back, but he held her firmly and pushed forward through the crowd. They stepped out of the pod, and suddenly they were in a broad cavern of a place. At first she thought it was simply the largest room she'd ever seen. Then she realized that above her was open space; her heart started racing instinctively. How could they possibly be safe in a place like this? What was holding the air in?

"Don't worry," Jess said, seeming reading her mind. "This dome is made out of the same material that protects the Emperor's sky palace on Tyre. We're perfectly safe."

"Oh," She replied, unsure of what to say. She certainly didn't feel safe, no matter what he said. For all she knew, he was making it up, just to calm her down. "How do you know that?"

"I did grow up here," he said, pulling her through the crowd. It was hard to hear him through all the noise. There was music and advertising everywhere and she could feel a dull throbbing starting in her head. If they didn't get somewhere quieter soon, she was going to go crazy, she thought desperately.

Someplace quiet and with a ceiling, she thought.

"In here," Jess said. He pointed to a door with a sign above it that she couldn't understand.

What's that?"

"It's a hostel" he said. "I'm going to drop you off at the room and then go out to take care of my business."

"Is your sister here?" she asked, trying to focus on what he was saying. "Are you going to find her?"

"Yes," he said. "She's here, but I'll go and get her later. Right now I want to pick up some things for us, and I have an appointment with a broker to discuss the ship."

"Aren't you afraid that someone will recognize you?"

"No," he said. "The population of the station changes pretty quickly. Even if someone did see me, they have no way of knowing why I'm here."

"Don't you think they might find it kind of strange that you're back here after being shipped off to the mines?" she asked. He frowned, and she realized all her questions were starting to annoy him.

"Let me worry about that," he said tightly. "All you need to do is wait for me to take care of everything. We'll be getting a new ship soon, and then we'll go back for Bragan. You'll like Calla. She's a great girl, sweet."

He pulled her through the entryway and back down a hall lined with doors.

"I've gotten room for us already," he said. "You'll just need to wait for me," he added, opening one of the doors.

She looked around the room. It was small, but very nice. In fact, she found the close quarters somewhat comforting after all that open space. Like home. Then something strange caught her attention; there was some kind of covering on the floor. Unable to control herself, she pulled away from him and dropped to her knees. She had to touch it. It was so soft…How would anyone be able to keep such a useless and decadent thing clean? It was crazy.

"What is this?" she asked softly. Jess started laughing and she blushed.

It's called carpet," he said. "It's very common, at least in places not owned by Pilgrims."

"I've never been anywhere that wasn't owned by Pilgrims," she said with a shaky laugh. He smiled.

"I think you'll like t here a lot more than any Pilgrim station," he said. "Come here."

He stood near the bed, reaching one hand out to her in invitation. She stood and slowly walked toward him. They still hadn't resolved their earlier fight, but she found herself wanting his touch regardless. Discovery Station was so new and strange. It was exciting, but a small part of her was frightened, too. There were so many things she'd never seen before, never dreamed could exist.

Everyone around her seemed to simply take them for granted. How would she ever fit in to a place like this? Compared to them, she was a cultural mutant.

Then Jess' arms were closed around her. Things didn't seem as frightening; she was safe. He would take care of her. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, kissing the top of her head softly.

"It's going to be all right," he whispered. "We just have to take care of a few more things and then we can start building a new life for ourselves. You have to trust me, Bethany. I know what's right for us."

He kissed the top of her head again, then pushed her gently away. He reached down, taking her hands into his. At first she smiled at him. Then she noticed that his grip on her had grown tight.

"I need to go and see about our new ship," he said. "While I'm gone, I'm going to lock you in the fresher."

"Oh, no," she said, heart sinking. "Jess, you can't leave me locked up in this strange place. It's not right."

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I don't have a choice. I can't risk having you run off."

"And just where do you think that I would go?" she asked sarcastically. "I don't exactly know anyone here. What do you think I'm planning to do?"

"I won't risk it," he said, no longer meeting her gaze. She could tell from his tone that the subject was closed. Still holding her hands firmly in his grasp, he walked her toward the fresher.

"Don't bother trying to make a lot of noise," he said as he locked her in. "The room has been sound-proofed. We're close enough to the spaceport that sound baffles are required in all the rooms."

"Just who do you think I'd be trying to attract?" she asked. "Jess, I don't know anyone here. I don't even know how to read half the signs we passed on the way in. They're in another language. Why do you think I'm so bound and determined to run off?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he pushed her into the small room and shut the door. She sat on the floor, feeling as if she were caught in some kind of bizarre time loop. No matter what she said to him, he still didn't trust her. He treated her well 90 percent of the time, yet he still wasn't secure enough to leave her alone.

She didn't want to leave him.

She liked him, touching him made her happy. She'd been angry with him at first, but she wasn't a fool. The slave revolt had given her new hope and the chance for happiness. Happiness with him. Even if that weren't enough reason to stay with him, she had her fear. This new world he was showing her was frightening. She didn't understand how it worked, didn't understand how she would be able to survive here without some kind of help. She liked the idea of building a life with him, although she had no idea how they were going to do such a thing if he wouldn't talk to her about it. They couldn't go on like this indefinitely, she already knew that. They would drive each other crazy, end up strangling each other. This was no way to live.

She sat there and waited for him for several hours. Finally she fell asleep, only to be awakened by the sound of the door opening. He was back. Within seconds he opened the fresher door. He stood tall over her in the door, reaching one hand down to help her to her feet, his face grim. She shivered.

He looked completely different. Instead of wearing the monochrome, drab coveralls that all Pilgrim men wore, he was in a sleek black suit. Well tailored, it clung to his body, emphasizing his broad shoulders and muscular chest. It was severe and simple, yet far more elegant than anything she had ever seen before. He was incredibly handsome, almost unreal. What if he left me? she wondered, feeling faint and suddenly self-conscious. Her hair was ragged, her hands were rough. What would a man like this see in her, especially when there were so many women on the station who seemed more than eager for his attention? Women who wore feathers, like Mary. Exotic women.

"I brought you some things," he said, unaware of her troubled thoughts as he pulled her to her feet.

He turned and walked over to the bed. She stood and followed him on shaky legs. There were several packages, all brightly colored.

"What are they?" she asked.

"Clothing," he said. "I bought you some new things. Go ahead and open them."

She touched one of the boxes hesitantly, then pulled it open. The fabric inside was soft, far softer than anything she'd ever felt.

"That's called Fella sheen," Jess said. "It's only woven on Fella, from the cocoons of tiny creatures that live in the trees there. It's very lightweight, but incredibly durable. I thought it might make a nice change for you. Why don't you try it on?"

She held it up, amazed to see the small puddle of fabric expand into a full-length dress. But not a dress like anything she'd ever worn before. There were slits up the sides. She pulled out another piece of cloth and discovered a matching pair of pants. Just how was a woman supposed to wear something like this?

"Many of the women hear wear jumpsuits like mine," he said quietly. "But I thought you might be more comfortable in something like this. You wear the dress over the pants, but when you walk, your legs are still covered. It's a very popular style."

"Why can't I just wear my own clothes?" she asked nervously. So many things were changing so quickly, she hardly knew what to think about this. Was he ashamed of the way she looked? She raised a hand to her hair, fingering the rough ends self-consciously. She'd done her best to even them up after he'd cut part of it off during the revolt, but it was still uneven.

"Because I've sold the ship," he said. "We're not Pilgrims anymore, we're tourists. We need to look the part. I've got new identities for us, too."

"New identities?" she asked. "I don't think I understand."

"You can buy anything on Discovery Station for the right price," Jess said lightly. He turned from her, walking across the room to sit down in a chair. "We've already got the paperwork. We'll go in tomorrow for the surgery."

"Surgery?" she asked, feeling the blood drain from her face.

"I need surgery to change my finger and retinal prints," Jess said, smiling. "Don't worry, it won't take long. The DNA patch is just an injection. They'll test you, too, to see if you're in any databases. I'm betting you won't need any surgery; I doubt the Pilgrims bothered to register you with anyone."

"That's a relief," she said, shivering.

"I'll get Calla tonight," Jess added. "She'll need the surgery, too. I did some checking around. Jenner, the bitch who used to own me and who still owns Calla, seems to have left the station, and the Saurellians have commandeered her business. I'm hoping this will make rescuing Calla easier."

"If it's so easy to get a slave away from here, why didn't you escape a long time ago?" Bethany asked worriedly. "I don't understand."

"There are two reasons I didn't escape before," Jess said, his face growing shadowed. "Calla was too afraid, for one. And I didn't have any money. Between selling the ore and selling the ship I've got plenty now. More than I'd ever dreamed."

"Didn't you have to buy a new ship, though?"

"Yes, but it was relatively cheap compared to the freighter," Jess said. "Everyone here is looking for big ships. Getting something small was easy enough."

"I see," she said, not understanding him at all. Things were moving too quickly for her.

"Aren't you going to put on the dress?" he asked after a brief pause. "I thought I might take you out for dinner."

"Out for dinner?" she asked. What was he talking about?

"Yes, out," he replied, laughing. "They have businesses here called restaurants, where they provide food for a price. This way we don't have to worry about cooking."

"This is a wonderful place," she said, eyes growing wide. "Is there anything that they don't do for you here?"

"As long as you have money, you'll get whatever you want," Jess replied with a smile. "Anything."

Chapter Twelve

Jess had certainly been right about that, Bethany thought, her head swimming. She had just finished her third glass of something he called wine. It had taken her a while to figure out it was alcoholic, because it didn't have the harsh bite that bakrah did. This stuff was definitely going to her head. She swayed in her seat, reaching out with one finger to wipe the last of the sauce off her plate. It was rich and meaty, and so spicy that it made her ears burn. She could actually feel the hot blood rushing through them, and giggled. Jess shot her a look across the table, and she stuck her tongue out at him. He needed to relax more, she thought, taking another deep drink of the wine.

It was the best meal she'd ever had, even though Jess wasn't letting her eat as much as she wanted.

He kept insisting she was going to make herself sick. At that moment she hardly cared. Getting sick would be a small price to pay for food as good as this.

They sat in a small, dimly lit restaurant. All around them were other couples, laughing and talking softly. They all seemed happy, as if they were having a wonderful time. Music played in the background, creating a low, pulsing noise that made Bethany feel like swaying in her seat. There was something about this place that was amazing, and so relaxing she didn't even feel strange about the crazy clothing she wore any longer. Jess had been right; most of the other women were wearing jumpsuits. She might not be fully covered by the clinging fabric, but she was far more covered than the women around her.

Their waiter brought them a small bowl of something cold and sweet. There were two spoons in it, and Bethany gave a squeal of delight as she tasted it. It was the best thing she'd ever eaten. She could hear Jess laughing at her, but she didn't care. She just ate spoonful after sweet spoonful, letting each melt in her mouth and moaning with pleasure. When they were done, she stuck her finger in, scooping out the last traces.

Jess stood, and reached out to take her arm.

"I think we should head back to the hostel," he said, dark blue eyes glowing. She shivered, enjoying the way he looked at her. He was dark, intense, and his eyes burned with lust. He wanted her and it made her feel powerful. This incredible man, the one all the women were looking at, wanted her. The slave revolt really was the best thing that had ever happened in her life.

Together they walked out of the restaurant into the spaceport's main thoroughfare. Even though it was late in the cycle, the place was filled with men and women laughing and drinking. Several men looked at her in ways that made her blush, and more than one woman smiled an invitation at Jess. She craned her head, wondering in that Mary was around anywhere. She was so busy looking that she stumbled, although Jess caught her easily enough. She blinked, surprised by how unsteady she felt. Just walking was confusing; which way was their hostel, anyway?

She lurched away from Jess as something caught her eye. There was a woman in the air above one of the doorways, writhing naked with some kind of creature wrapped around her. What was it? Bethany stopped, cocking her head and staring in wonder. Jess tugged at her arm, but she refused to move. What was that thing? And what was the woman doing with it?

Jess turned back, and laughed when he saw what she was looking at.

"How does that woman just hang up in the air like that?" Bethany whispered, completely confused.

"It's a hologram," Jess said. "It's just a projection. The woman is actually inside on a stage. Or it may just be a recording."

"What is she doing?"

"That's a little harder to explain…" Jess said, a grin playing around the corners of his mouth. "It's a sex show. Entertainment. People pay money to see others performing sexual acts."

"I've never heard of anything that looks like that," she replied. Someone jostled her, and she bumped against Jess. Mmm… He smelled good. She reached her arms around him and pulled him close.

"Have you ever seen one of these sex shows?" she asked. She could feel his muscles tighten beneath her fingers, and his cock hardened against her body. His eyes grew smoky and his expression softened..

"Yes, I have been to a few of them," he said.

"Can we go?" she asked. The look on his face made her laugh. He was clearly startled by her request.

"I don't know that it's a good idea, at least not tonight," he said finally. "I'm going after Calla soon, and I don’t think this is the best way to get ready for that particularly task."

She pulled at his arm, trying to get him to follow her into the show, but he stood firm.

"Bethany, we really need to go back to our room," he said. She studied him, trying to gage if she had even a chance of changing his mind, but his expression remained the same. It wasn't going to happen, she thought mournfully.

They walked back toward the hostel slowly, Jess holding her hand, and she soon forgot her disappointment. The port was amazing, filled with hundreds, thousands, of people. Some of them spoke languages she couldn't understand, and all of a sudden a thought hit her.

"What language do I speak?" she asked. "I never realized that there was more than one. Is this a Pilgrim language?"

Jess started laughing.

"No, this is Basic," he said. "As far as I know, Pilgrims don't have their own language."

"What is Basic?" she asked. "Is it the Imperial language?"

"Well, it's the trade language," he said. "On many worlds, it's the primary language, and certainly the primary language on most space stations like this one. Almost everyone speaks Basic, although most people speak their own language, too."

"Do you speak more than one language?" she asked suddenly.

"Sort of," he said. "I speak Basic and I also know slave sign."

"What's slave sign?"

"It's a method of communication between slaves," he said. "It allows us to talk with each other without being overheard. At least much of the time."

"Do all slaves know it?"

"No," he said quietly. "Generally only Imperial slaves. Men and women raised on slave farms, like myself. Sometimes those who are enslaved later in life learn, but not always."

"You were raised on a slave farm?" she asked. "What is that?"

"You have a lot of questions tonight," he said. "I'll tell you about the slave farm some other time. I think we should try to enjoy ourselves now. I have work to do later."

"What are you doing later?" she asked, her mind reeling. It was hard keeping things straight when you drank wine, she thought.

He burst out laughing. "You don't listen very well, do you?"

"No," she said pertly. She grinned at him, and he leaned over to kiss her on the mouth. The touch sent a tingle of sensation coursing through her and she leaned against him. He held her close and they stood there, frozen in time for a moment, before someone in the crowed jostled them.

"This is such an amazing place," she said suddenly. "I didn't realize that so many people could be all together like this at once. I can hardly believe it's real."

"It's real all right," he said. "And very interesting, but I think I'd like to go back to the hostel now."

"Oh really?" she asked archly, rubbing against him. She could feel his arousal rising, and reveled in it.

"Did you have any specific activity in mind for when we get there?"

"Many things," he said, kissing her softly.

The touch of his lips against hers made her shiver, and she sighed. How wonderful it felt to be with him here, on this night, in this place. Who would have thought such a thing was possible?

Pulling her gently by the hands, Jess started moving towards the pod-shaped vehicle that would carry them across the port to their hostel. She allowed herself to simply enjoy the moment, the rough feeling of his hand in hers, the warmth of his body. It was so good to be with him, to not be worried about anything for once.

To not be afraid.

That's what it was, she realized. For the first time in her life she wasn't afraid. She was safe with Jess. Somehow she knew that, deep within herself. She knew it beyond a doubt. Jess would always protect her.

The shuttle pulled up before them and they stepped in. She allowed herself to settle beside him as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She was tired, just a bit sleepy, so she let her eyes close and simply luxuriated in the feel of him next to her. She could smell him. He was clean, but that slightly tangy, almost spicy scent she had come to associate with him was still there. It seemed as if there was a halo of energy surrounding them, walling them in and allowing them to build their own special little world. She imagined herself as a green, flickering flame. His energy was a red flame, strong and shot through with streaks of black and orange. Her green should have paled next to him, but instead lived within it, sheltered by the stronger energy of his body.

So perfect, as if they were created for each other.

She nodded, drowsily imagining their flames burning together, until the pod came to a stop. Then he was pulling her to her feet, and they stumbled out into the wide corridor. There were fewer people around them now. It was a good place to be, she thought. Going home. Not that the hostel was really their home. Maybe the new ship would feel like a home, she thought suddenly.

"How much did the new ship cost?" she asked suddenly curious. "How much money do we have left over? Will it be enough?"

"Oh, it will be enough," Jess said quietly. "Between selling the ore and the ore carrier, we have more than enough to start a new life for ourselves. More than enough for Calla and Bragan, too."

They were at their hostel now, all closed up for the night. Next to the door was a security box. Jess pulled a small card out of his pocket and stuck it in a slot in the door. It swished open, and he guided her through the door and down the silent hall to their room. Then he opened that door, and they walked inside. Bethany tripped lightly once more and Jess caught her.

He pulled her into his arms, and she went to him with a sigh. What was it about this man that gave her such pleasure? she wondered She wrapped her arms around his body, feeling the muscles under his skin tensing as her fingers danced across them.

"Kiss me," she demanded, tilting her head up toward him.

Jess looked down at her, taken for a moment by the strange mix of her commanding tone with the soft blurring of her gaze. She was a little drunk from the wine, and more relaxed with him than he could ever remember her being.

How had he managed to find this woman? His life was suddenly all but perfect. He had Bethany, a ship, a future. Soon he would have his sister back, too, and together they would rescue Bragan. After that, who knew what wonderful things might happen. For the first time in his life he had a future, and the Goddess had even been gracious enough to give him someone to share it with. It was nothing short of a miracle.

Filled with a sense of wonder, he allowed his lips to take hers, marveling at their soft texture. He kissed her, lips closed, for several minutes. The soft warmth of her mouth against his was amazing—beautiful and exciting all at once. He could feel the blood rushing between his legs, feel his cock rising with anticipation. In a bit he would slide that hard part of himself into her body, and the delicious warmth and wetness of her would close around him. The friction of her folds would carry him to new heights, and the squeezing of her muscles would draw a climax out of him more stunning than any other he had experienced before meeting her.

How had he even imagined those earlier fleeting encounters to be true sex? They were nothing compared to this, simply the release of tension, a bodily function completed. This was so much more.

She pressed closer to him, and he could feel the soft mounds of her breasts against his chest. Her nipples slowly hardened as his own responded. She shifted her legs against his restlessly, and then her tongue stole out of her mouth, burning a path along his lips. He opened for her and their tongues met playfully. One of her hands stole down between them, cupping his erection lightly, and he shuddered.

He reached down and cupped both hands around her buttocks, lifting her easily into the air. She gasped, the motion pulling her head from his. Her hands clutched his shoulders for balance, and her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

He carried her across the room to their bed. It was larger and far more comfortable than that on the ore hauler, almost decadent in comparison.

Jess had been dreaming about taking her on a bed like this one since the first time he'd seen it. Now he carried her toward it, wishing their clothes were already gone and that he could thrust into her immediately.

Bethany seemed to be feeling the same way. She rubbed her clit against the hard ridge of his cock through their clothing, straining at him for more stimulation. He laughed, and leaned over to settle her gently on the bed. She kept her hold on him, pulling him down with her. The move caught him off guard, and he fell down over her. She pulled him, rolling him across the bed until she was on top of him, leaning down against his chest and kissing him deeply. It took him off guard, although not in a bad way. He was simply amazed, and not for the first time, that the shy, quiet woman he had first met on the mining station had turned out to be so fiery. Even when he had first taken her from her people, she had seemed meek enough. He knew better now. She would be a formidable opponent if she ever turned on him.

The thought cooled him momentarily, then was gone as she kissed him again, pulling on his shirt. She wanted him naked, now. Her actions were clear. He wasn't about to fight with her.

He reached down to the hem of her dress, pulling it up and over her head. It was hard at first, their arms kept tangling together as they tugged at the clothing. Then she slithered out of the silky pants she wore under the dress and he raised his hips to lower his own pants. The cool air hit his cock, but did nothing to dampen his arousal. He wanted to feel that slick warmth close him. He would never get enough of her. Never.

Now she was naked, with the warmth of her soft skin fluttering against his body in so many places he felt like he was dying. How could a man survive something like this, night after night? His heart was pounding, every nerve in his body singing. He could feel the pressure in his loins, building and growing impossibly stronger as she pushed against his erection. Then she moved to straddle him, and he could feel her heat. It was a tangible presence, all but touching him even though his aching cock was still inches from her opening. She lowered her body over his slowly and deliberately, her fingers catching and stopping his hand when he tried to pull her down more quickly. It was tortuous and beautiful all at once. He was going to die.

She sheathed him. For one glorious moment he was content, held within her pulsing body as she squeezed slowly and steadily. Their heartbeats seemed to meld, as if they shared a physical connection so strong that they truly were one creature at that moment. Then she squeezed him again, and he was filled with the need to move, to thrust into her deeply, repeating himself until she screamed and spasmed around him. But she wasn't playing along.

Bethany raised her body and laughed as his hips pulled back from hers, pressing down into the bed.

He needed more friction, more movement. It wasn't enough to simply experience this teasing slowness.

He had to feel more, had to have her flesh rubbing back and forth against his. Time to take control.

Without warning, he sat up and flipped her over beneath him. She squealed in protest, but he ignored her, grimly thrusting in and out of her. She was slick with need for him, and her grunts as he started pounding into her were more than enough evidence that she was enjoying it every bit as much as he. He wanted to go harder, deeper. He wanted to plant his seed in her. The thought of it turned his vision red, and he closed his eyes, focusing every bit of his energy on thrusting into her again and again.

She was panting and gasping now and he knew her orgasm must be close. The thought of her beneath him, helpless, surged through him like the sweetest of wines. He could taste her need, thrust into her to emphasize that only he could provide her with this. The thought of her approaching another man flitted through his head. No. He wouldn't let himself think of that. She was his, all his, and he was marking her.

She would never forget who she belonged to.

He thrust deeper, feeling the bed sway beneath them as they moved. She whimpered something at him, her voice needy. He couldn't understand what she was saying. The blood was pounding too hard in his ears and slowing down was not an option. Each thrust brought him that much closer to the achingly beautiful conclusion they both needed. He had to go harder, faster. He had to hold on and not give in to the desire to explode. They were going to come together, or not at all. He wouldn't give her a choice about that.

A sudden, sharp pain broke through his thoughts, and he realized that she had scratched his back.

Her fingernails tore through his skin, each one clawing a trail of fire through him. It helped him focus. He reached down to pull her hips more firmly under his and she gave a little scream.

Time to finish it.

He pulled one hand free and pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it back and forth as he breached her. She gasped, and a fine sheen of perspiration broke out across her face. He could feel her muscles stiffening, could see her pulling air deep into her chest. It was only a matter of seconds now. He gave one last mighty thrust, working her clit with his thumb, and watched her face intently. Her head flung back as she came with a scream. Her internal muscles gripped him tightly, and he gasped. He wanted to watch her, take her pleasure into himself, but it was too late. His own orgasm was upon him, his body had taken over and making the decisions now. He could feel the pressure and tension explode out his cock as waves of pleasure shot through his body, radiating out from his pelvis. It was spectacular, better than he could have dreamed.

Was every time with her going to be like this? A new high, a new kind of sexual ecstasy? If so, he may very well die with the next few weeks, he thought wryly. One man's body was not designed for this kind of stress…

* * *

Jess stole through the corridors of the station, taking care to attract as little notice as possible. It wasn't hard; it was the middle of the sleep cycle and this was a quiet area.

It was amazing to him how things had changed, and yet stayed the same. He had lived in these halls all of his life, yet everything was different now. Their Saurellian overlords had been active during their brief tenure. The port was still wild and full, but there seemed to be more order in the rest of the station.

There were certainly more guardsmen. There were also more public receptacles for trash, and much less graffiti.

The Saurellians, apparently, preferred their spacestations to be clean.

Another major difference was the public notices calling on station residents to register to vote. He had no idea what they would be voting on; he couldn't even imagine doing so. Never, in his entire life, had there been a vote on the station about anything. Strangely enough, the few businesses owned by Pilgrims appeared to be shut down. Was Jenner's disappearance connected, he wondered?

He was near the hostel where he had grown up now, and it was hard to remember caution. He felt far too comfortable here, yet was far more dangerous for him outside the port. There, the population was transient. Now he found himself among people who might very well recognize him and report him as an escaped slave. Under Imperial rule that would have resulted in his death; the Goddess alone knew what the Saurellians might do to him.

If anything happened, Bethany would be all right, he reminded himself. He had registered her as owner of their new ship. The hostel owner had instructions to check on her if Jess didn't return. She'd be all right; there was more than enough money for her to survive.

He'd come too far to be caught now, though. He was going to free Calla and get out of this hellhole once and for all.

Finally, he reached his goal—the long, narrow passageway. There was a vent at the end that would lead to the storeroom in Jenner's hostel. He and Calla had discovered the secret route as children. They'd always assumed that Jenner had created it in a bout of paranoia, something common enough among Pilgrims. After all, they tended to hoard supplies and tried to always have at least one escape route. Now he would use it to steal Calla right out from under the noses of her masters.

Moving quietly, he opened the vent and started crawling down the shaft. Every inch of it felt familiar to him. He'd used it a thousand times to sneak out of the hostel. As a child, he would go down to the port and follow the traders around, copying their speech and asking questions about foreign worlds. He could have escaped long ago, if Calla hadn't been so afraid.

As a young man, he had discovered the joys to be found among the women of the port. He was handsome and strong—even the women of the most expensive pleasure houses had welcomed him to their beds. More than one had offered to buy him his freedom.

Once again, he had stayed because of Calla. His stomach turned as he realized how foolish they had been; Calla had been fearful, terrified that they would be caught and killed. He realized now that death was far from the worst fate a slave could suffer.

Moving through the passage, he counted down the vents until he reached the one that opened on the hostel. With a flash of triumph, he discovered it was still loose. The vent cover was supposed to be firmly welded directly to the station, making it impossible for a man without sophisticated tools to open it. The welds on this one had been broken for decades, but he had been half afraid the Saurellians would have noticed and fixed it.

Keeping quiet, he pushed the grill open and lowered it to the floor. He slithered out of the vent into the room . Dank and dusty as ever, he thought with satisfaction. Nobody was coming in and out of here regularly.

He crept across the floor and listened carefully at the door. Outside was silence. Unless things had changed significantly, everyone would have been asleep for hours. Calla would be in the kitchen, her pallet laid out with those of the other women. For the first time he realized Calla might not be the only slave who wanted to leave. His gut twisted. It would endanger them all if he brought too many back with him to the ship, but he didn't have a choice. If his fellow slaves wanted to leave, he would help them.

It was the only right thing to do.

Walking down the hall, he looked carefully at each door, trying to determine if anyone was awake.

Jenner's office was open, although there was no light inside. He'd never seen it left open like that before; she really was gone. It was hard to imagine in some ways. Jenner had always seemed like a force of nature to him, immovable and certainly unstoppable. Yet she had left for the first time in years. Was it really a business trip, or had the Saurellians frightened her that much?

He kept moving until he reached the kitchen. Fortunately, Calla always slept closest to the door because she had to go to the fresher at least once every night. He'd teased her about it mercilessly as a teenager. He eased the door open, eyes searching the dimly lit room. Things were different, he realized.

Most of his life there had been four or five women who slept here, all slaves. Now there was only one.

Calla? No, whoever this was, she was smaller than Calla.

Her body was completely covered by the blanket, a nicer one than he'd remembered having when he'd lived with Jenner. What had happened, where was everyone? And how was he going to find his sister?

He would have to wake the woman up and ask. It was likely that he knew her. He doubted that Jenner would have bought another slave so quickly; the old bitch was notoriously tight with her cash. He walked carefully over to the sleeping woman and knelt silently beside her. Her hair was a soft gold, familiar to him it. It was Hari, the kitchen girl. They had been slaves together for more than a decade. She would never betray him, he thought in relief.

He touched her shoulder softly, shaking her and whispering her name.

"Hari, wake up," he said. She muttered something, and tried to roll over. He had to hold in a laugh.

Some things never changed. Hari had always been the last one up in the morning, and grumpy for hours afterwards.

"Wake up," he repeated, and she opened her eyes.

"What is it?" she asked sleepily, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "I'm sleeping. Jess, is that you?"

She sat bolt upright, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Yes," he replied, unable to keep from smiling at her. She seemed so young. They were nearly the same age, but now he felt like he was centuries older. Life had been so easy here, he thought longingly.

He hadn't known what suffering was…

"What are you doing here? We all thought you would be dead by now!" She gasped, flinging herself into his arms. "Oh, I can't believe this. We have to go tell the others that you're alive."

"Shhhh," he said. "No, we have to be quiet. I can't be caught here."

"No, everything has changed!" she said. "Oh, Jess, you're safe here now. Jenner's gone."

"I know," he said. "But that hardly makes us safe, Hari."

"Oh, no, it does!" she said. "We're free now, Jess! All of us! The Saurellians wanted to keep using the hostel but they didn't want to manage it, so they turned it over to us and we're running it for them now. It's wonderful."

He shook his head, unable to understand what she was saying. The Saurellians had freed Jenner's slaves?

"Where's Calla?" he asked. Her face changed abruptly, and she looked away.

"I think we should wake Karin up," she said suddenly, referring to the head cook. Jess narrowed his eyes.

"No, I want to hear where Calla is," he said, gripping her shoulders firmly. She tried to turn away from him, and he shook her shoulders roughly. She whimpered. "Where is Calla?"

"Jess, she's dead," Hari said quietly. Jess suddenly felt dizzy, and shook his head.

"What did you say?" he demanded.

"She's dead, Jess," Hari whispered miserably. "It happened right after Jenner sold you to the miners.

She disappeared that night, and a few weeks later they found her tracking implant in the recycling plant."

Jess shook his head, unwilling to believe what she was telling him. Calla couldn't be dead. She was a sister, his other half. He had overcome incredible odds to rescue her. What Hari was telling him was impossible. He refused to accept it.

"Jess, I'm so sorry," Hari said miserably. "We never did figure out what happened. We thought maybe she tried to escape, and got picked up by somebody down at the port. You know what can happen to a woman alone down there."

Jess tried not to listen to her, but reality was sinking in against his will. He was all too aware of what could happen to a woman alone. Or a even a man alone, if he didn't know what he was about. There were certain areas of the port where predators lurked. They were the very same kinds of places that might attract a young woman trying to escape her owner, he thought desperately.

It wasn't uncommon to find bodies in the station's recycling pits, either. Or rather, parts of bodies.

Her tracking implant was probably the only part of Calla that still existed, he thought numbly. Why hadn't he forced her to go with him, to escape while they had a chance? He could have saved her, if only he'd been stronger!

He knew it was a question he would ask himself for the rest of his life.

"I have to go," he said abruptly, unwilling to look at Hari. She had been part of his life here. That life was all over now. All over except for one thing. He still owed Mistress Jenner, wherever she was, a visit.

* * *

Bethany had long since given up trying to sleep on the floor in the fresher. He had left her several blankets and a pillow, but all she could think about was Jess, creeping through the station. He was going to find his sister, but what if someone stopped him? Would they realize he was an escapee? What would happen to him, and what would happen to her? There was a cold ball of icy blue fire in her belly. No matter how many times she told herself everything was going to be fine, she couldn't bring herself to believe it.

Something was going to go terribly wrong. She just knew it.

She had no way of measuring the time, but it seemed like hours had passed before she heard noises in the outer room. She listened carefully. One set of footsteps, and no feminine voice. If it was Jess, he didn't have Calla with him. Or maybe someone else had gotten into their room?

A moment later the fresher door opened. She stared up at the man in the doorway, unable to see his face in the darkness.

"Jess, is that you?" she asked softly.

"Yes," he replied, his voice sounding harsh. Something was terribly wrong; there was no other explanation.

"Where is Calla?" she asked, afraid to hear the answer. He turned away from the fresher and walked back toward the bed. She stood shakily and followed him.

"Calla is dead," he said harshly. "I don't want you to mention her name again."

"But what—" she started to ask, but he cut her off.

"Be quiet," he said coldly. "We'll leave in the morning. You'd better get some sleep."

"What about you?" she asked.

"I don’t' need any sleep," he said tightly. "I need to think."

"All right," she whispered. She crossed the room and slid into the bed, watching him as closely as she could in the darkness. He took a seat in a chair, leaning it back against the wall and putting his feet up. Silence stretched between them, a tangible thing that seemed unbearably painful to her. He was so alone; every part of her ached to comfort him, to pull him into her arms and soothe his pain.

He wasn't going to allow that, she knew already. He didn't want to admit how much he was hurting.

In the darkness, she could hear his breathing. It grew rough, as if he were running, and then it caught. He cleared this throat noisily, turning his head away from her.

He was crying, she realized. Crying for his sister.

Her heart ached, but she kept still. He would never want anyone to witness such weakness. Not for one moment could he concede that he was anything less than hard and tough, a man who could handle any obstacle. If only he understood that he didn't need to be alone, she thought sadly.

Of course, he couldn't even figure out that he didn't need to lock her up to keep her, she thought with dark humor. Yet she couldn't imagine leaving him. He had become everything to her, and he didn't even realize it.

* * *

Bethany had just fallen asleep when the entire room shuddered, rolling her halfway across the bed.

Loud sirens filled the air, and an emergency light started strobing.

"What's going on?" she gasped, sitting up in the bed. It was the most horrifying racket she'd ever heard. The light wasn’t helping. Everything seemed surreal, jerky.

Jess was already on his feet, moving toward her and pulling her into his arms.

"There's been a hull breach," he said, voice strained. He ran his hands over her body, checking her for injuries. "The station is under attack."

Chapter Thirteen

The words "hull breach" struck a fear into her heart. A child of the mining belt, she knew that nothing was more dangerous that a breach. Within seconds, all the air on a station could be sucked out into the cold night of the vacuum. They were going to die. She shivered, and he stroked her hair.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice soothing. "It's going to be all right. We're safe in here. As soon as we were hit, every door on this station locked tight. We've got plenty of back-up air sources, and we'll be fine."

"Who do you think did it?" she whispered. "Why would they attack the station?"

"I don't know, I suppose it could be the Empire," Jess said. "But don't worry—this station is far too valuable for them to destroy it. And the Saurellians have it well defended. We're going to be fine."

She started to ask him something else, but she was cut off as a cool, smooth woman's voice came over the intercom into their room.

"Can I have your attention, please," the voice said. "This is the Discovery Station Emergency Protocol System. Discovery Station had been attacked by a small ship and a minor hull breach has occurred. The breach is located in Sector 8, levels 2-4. Please remain calm as station personnel repair this breach. Further instructions will follow as needed."

The voice stopped, although the lights continued to flash.

"Has this ever happened before?" she asked quietly, settling against him. Her heart was still pounding rapidly, and so was his. Yet she could feel the quiet strength in his arms, the warmth of his body, and her initial panic was dying down.

"Sure," he said. "I can think of two or three times that this happened as I was growing up. It must not be anything too serious or they would have given specialized evacuation instructions to the people in those sectors. The breach is small, and it's in a storage area. With any luck nobody was hurt."

"What could have caused it?" she asked.

"Well, a small ship could have crashed into the station. Or perhaps a missile of some kind, although if it were an attack, I'd think that they would notify us."

The voice crackled into the room again.

"May I have your attention, please," it said. "The hull breach has been sealed and the state of emergency has been downgraded to a state of alert. The station is now secure. The Station Commander has directed all civilian personnel to remain in their quarters until further notice. If there is a medical emergency, please contact your sector captain for assistance. A listing of sector captains is available on all public and private information terminals by pressing zero. I repeat, all civilian personnel are to remain in their quarters until further notice."

The light stopped flashing, and silence filled the room. For a moment, Bethany couldn't help but wonder if the entire thing had been some sort of surreal dream.

"That's strange," Jess said. "There must be something more than an accident going on. Something suspicious, but less than a full attack. Let's turn on the news channel. Computer, please turn on vid screen."

The screen embedded in the wall across the room flickered to life, and sound filled the room. A woman with a calm face and perfectly coifed hair smiled out at them from the screen.

"The station commander assures us that the attack was insignificant, and was not orchestrated by Imperial forces," she said. "According to station sources, the hull breach was sealed quickly according to emergency protocol. The effected areas have been evacuated, and repair crews are already moving into place. We do not yet have an estimation of the damages or an anticipated time of repair. There is also no estimate of casualties, although the affected area was not heavily populated. "

She stopped speaking for a moment and cocked her head.

"This just in," she continued. "Station Command has just informed us that ore processing plant number 15, located in the third sector, has been destroyed. The ore processing plant is one of the smaller plants servicing Discovery Station and was unmanned. Command informs us that they suspect sabotage, although they have not clarified whether they believe it to be sabotage from within the station, or if the saboteurs are at large within the system."

"It takes a lot of firepower to destroy an ore processing plant," Jess remarked coolly. "This could make things more difficult. They're going to be looking very closely at everyone who goes in and out of this station. We may have to lay low for a while."

"What about Bragan?" she asked softly. "He's waiting for us."

"Well, he'll just have to wait another week," Jess replied. "It won't do him any good if we're arrested and never make it back to him."

"And the doctor?" she asked. "Do you think he'll still be willing to go after an attack like this? We can't rescue Bragan without him."

"I never asked the doctor if he was willing to go with us," Jess said.

"You're planning to kidnap the doctor?" she asked. "That's crazy!"

"No more crazy than planning a revolt on a mining colony," he replied. "I won't hurt him, and he'll be paid for his time. It's a better deal than Bragan ever got. Any of the slaves, for that matter."

She stayed silent, unsure of how to respond. On the one hand he was right, but on the other… It was just one more crime. How many crimes would they have to commit before they were free? She didn't like thinking about it.

She pulled away from him, laying back down onto the bed and trying to think. The vid screen still flickered in the darkness, but he had turned down the volume. She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep. Sleeping would be so much better than having to think at this point.

Jess lay down beside her, wrapping one arm around her possessively. For one moment she thought he wanted to have sex but he simply held her. Perhaps he needed comforting, she thought. She certainly did. She snuggled back into his arms, grateful for the warmth. She would worry about everything else tomorrow.

* * *

Jess lay awake in the darkness, holding Bethany and thinking. He could tell when she finally dropped off to sleep; her breathing grew slow and steady. The tension in her arms and back also disappeared, and she made a soft snuffling noise as she burrowed into his side.

Nothing was going according to his plan.

How could he have gotten this close to freeing himself and Calla, only to find out she was dead and they were caught in the middle of an attack on Discovery Station. How good were the new identities he had purchased for them? With a sinking feeling, he realized they wouldn't find out until they tried to use them. After an attack like this one, the Saurellians wouldn't be inclined to treat them kindly if they were caught with false documents.

Then there was Bragan, patiently waiting for their return. The poor man was alone in that Goddess-forsaken place. Completely isolated, how long would the man last? Even if he survived physically, how would he hold up mentally? And what if some other group of Pilgrims arrived to find their station destroyed before he could get back.

What would the bastards do to Bragan? He shuddered at the thought.

Bethany was counting on him, too. She had no idea how to take care of herself in the larger world.

She had no skills, no education. He had to admit that, in many ways, his life as a slave on the station had been far better than hers as a woman in the mining belt. He owed it to her to make a better life for both of them. He also owed something to Calla. Revenge. Calla was dead because she'd tried to escape, tried to find him. It had happened the same day Jenner had sold him to the miners. Bitch. She had a lot to answer for, and he would see that she paid. First he would rescue Bragan, and then he would find Jenner.

After that? He and Bethany would be free. Truly free. They would find some place far away and build a new life together.

She twisted in his arms, nestling her head into the crook of his arm.

She deserved so much more than she'd gotten out of life. He would give her everything she deserved and more, he vowed. Just as soon as he avenged his sister.

* * *

Bethany awoke to find Jess sprawled across her. On the vid screen there was a diagram of the entire mining system, with an arrow pointing at an area almost directly opposite Discovery Station.

"Computer, raise volume," she said softly. The newscaster's voice came into the room.

"The destroyed outpost is in orbit on the far side of the mining belt," she was saying. "Apparently Saurellian officials have known of its destruction for several days, although that information did not become public until early this morning."

Bethany shook Jess awake. He raised his head, blinking.

"Jess, they're talking about Bethesda Station," she said. "Or at least I think they are."

His gaze turned alert, and his eyes moved to the vid screen.

"For all of you waking up," the newscaster said. "I would like to repeat the morning's news.

Following last night's attack, Saurellian officials have announced that a mining station belonging to a small religious sect, calling themselves Pilgrims of the Apocalypse, has been destroyed. The explosion encompassed more than 500,000 square miles of space. Discovery Station Commander Ivankov has also notified us that station officials received a message this morning from a group identifying themselves as Pilgrims. The group is claiming responsibility for this morning's attack on the Discovery Station, apparently in retaliation for the destruction of their mining outpost. The commander will be addressing all station residents in approximately one standard hour to discuss the situation."

"Jess, what they are talking about?" she whispered quietly. "Why would somebody destroy the mining outpost? Who could do something like that?"

"Well, as far as I know, only the Saurellians or the Empire has that kind of fire power," he said softly. "I can't imagine why they'd target the outpost, though. There was nothing left there…"

"Bragan was left there. Do you think he's dead?"

Jess took a deep breath, then replied, "Yes, he has to be. There's no way he could have survived something like that, and we were his only hope of rescue."

Bethany shook her head. So much destruction.

"Poor Bragan," she said softly. "He'd been through so much already. It's not fair."

"Life isn't fair," Jess said curtly, rolling out of bed. "I'm going to take a shower before the station commander does his address."

Bethany nodded, watching him stalk into the fresher. Then she leaned back against the pillows, eyes moving to the vid screen. The newscaster was now presenting an overview of Pilgrim beliefs.

"The Pilgrims of the Apocalypse have existed in small pockets for more than 1,000 years," the woman was saying. "Very little is known about this obscure and secretive cult. Until recently, they have been largely located within the Empire, and are headquartered on the planet Karos. Their founder, known as the Celestial Pilgrim, was a young Imperial nobleman who gave up his rank and status, retreating to a cave in the mountains above his ancestral home. Nearly ten years later, all but forgotten, he re-emerged and announced that he was the new incarnation of truth and reality. He invited all those present to follow him into the realms of enlightenment, and the Pilgrim movement was born.

"The Basic tenets of the Pilgrim religion are obscure, although rumors abound. Only elders and a hand-picked group of priests are given access to the full range of writings and instructions left behind by the Celestial Pilgrim. The rest of those born into the cult are trained to be obedient pawns, working blindly to fulfill the goals of the group."

Well, that was certainly accurate, Bethany thought darkly. She had never been privy to the secrets of the religion that governed her life. Of course, neither had her father. She gave a wry smile as she thought of what they had all been taught. Only that which is needed is known. Do not question the Pilgrim's needs; strive to meet them.

As far she knew, nobody in the mining outpost had known what they were truly working toward. All they knew was that the Pilgrim had asked them to work for him, and they must obey.

"While the Pilgrims have been the victims of some persecution under the Empire," the newscaster said in the background, "nearly 200 years ago they reached an agreement with then-sitting Emperor, Nahn'vet VIII, on taxation and religious freedom. Since that time, they have operated largely independently within the Empire, although always respectful of Imperial law. They do not participate in any type of local government, and have been excused from fighting in the Imperial army. They are not known to exist within the Federation."

Jess came back out of the fresher.

"What are they talking about?" he asked.

"Pilgrim culture," she said. "Did you realize that they know more about the Pilgrims than I do?"

"Are you sure they're right?" he asked. "That doesn't make sense to me."

"I think being a Pilgrim doesn't make much sense," she said darkly.

"I can't argue with that, he said, rubbing a towel against his hair.

"I love how the showers here have water," she said quietly. "I've never seen anything like it."

"It's actually pretty common," he said, voice muffled by the towel. "The only places that don't have water are some of the long-haul cargo ships. Even those usually have both, though."

"Oh," she said, feeling foolish. There was so much about this outside world that she had no understanding of. It was hard at times. He turned away from her, and suddenly she felt very alone.

"Jess, would you like to come back to bed?" she asked softly. She didn't like this distance between them; it needed healing.

"No," he said tightly.

"There's nothing else we can do," she said. "We're stuck in here. Maybe it will help."

He shook his head and she sighed heavily.

Throwing off the covers, she went into the fresher herself. Might as well take advantage of the shower if there was nothing else to do.

The hot water sluiced over her, washing away some of her fears. Just standing here, allowing this water to run down her body, seemed so decadent. Dangerous, even. There was so much more to life than she'd ever realized.

It was good.

She turned her face into the stream and closed her eyes. Despite everything—the suffering, the loss, the pain—life was good. Even if she died within the next hour, she had had this one perfect moment in the shower. The absurdity of her thoughts hit her, and she laughed out loud. The sound echoed off the walls of the shower, and she laughed again with sheer pleasure.

The door opened abruptly.

"Bethany, are you all right in here?" Jess asked, his voice tense.

"I'm wonderful, Jess," she said, laughing again. "You have no idea how wonderful this shower is."

"Bethany, what's going on?" he asked, stepping into the room. She could hear the concern in his voice, and realized that she must sound crazy to him.

Fair enough.

"I'm happy, Jess," she said, pushing open the door to the fresher. She smiled at him invitingly, lifting her arms and slicking back her wet hair. She could feel her breasts lifting, her nipples hardening as the cool air hit them. The look on his face was priceless.

"I'm happy despite everything that is wrong right now, because I'm alive and I'm in a shower and all the odds were against success. Would you like to join me?"

He shook his head slowly, and she laughed again. She reached up and cupped her breasts, kneading them softly with her fingers.

"Are you sure?" she asked archly.

He grunted, then shrugged out of the pants he must have pulled on after she left the room. He stepped into the small booth with her, reaching both arms down to her butt and pulling her up hard against him. His mouth took hers, harsh and demanding. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sunk into his kiss with a sigh of relief.

They were connecting with each other again.

He was hard against her, and she wiggled, enjoying the feel of him as he grew more eager for her touch. Bethany felt as if the Goddess were inside her, feminine energy and power pumping through her veins as her tongue darted out, meeting his in a dance as old as time. He groaned, and then kissed her even more deeply. He pressed her against the wall of the shower, his pelvis pumping against her even as he sought entry to her body.

She lifted herself, and he thrust deep inside her. He hit her cervix and she gasped; it always amazed her that they fit together so well. He was massive, yet her body seemed to have been created for his touch. Nothing they did could be anything less than perfect.

He pulled out of her and then thrust back inside, seeming to go deeper and deeper with every motion. Tension built within her. She was aware of the slippery surface of the shower wall behind her in a vague way, and that the hot water still slid over them, yet he never lost his grasp. A sudden thought caught him. What would it be like if they could do thing this together in a tub full of water? Before she could think any further on her new idea, he thrust against her again, this time at a slightly different angle.

She could hardly breathe because now his entire length was rubbing against her clit. The arousal that had been slowly dancing along her nerve ending grew suddenly urgent. She couldn't breathe; she could hardly hold on to him. Everything in her body seemed to be wrapped up in him. He was her ground, her base, the source of her energy. She needed to take him into her fully, to become one with him.

She tried to urge him to move more quickly, grasping at his neck and shoulders as hard as she could, but the water kept her from gripping him like she needed to. Instinct cried out for her to clutch him tight, to bind him to her as her mate. Without thinking, she opened her mouth against his shoulder and bit deeply. He moaned, and she felt something salty filling her mouth. Blood.

He was pounding into her now, each thrust grinding her clitoris against her pelvic bone. The tension was tight within her, and she squeezed him, desperately seeking something more. More pressure, more of his hardness. She had to be filled.

Then it slammed over her. She felt the waves of heat moving through her body, and she screamed out in a mixture of triumph and joy. He followed her a moment later, hips pulsing as hot waves of his seed shot deep into her body. She collapsed against his shoulder and his grip on her softened.

They stood there in the shower, breathing heavily, for several minutes. He leaned down and kissed her wet face softly. She started to say something, but she was cut off by a low-pitched buzzing noise.

"May I have your attention please," a voice said coolly and calmly from a small speaker in the corner of the shower. Bethany started, then realized it was yet another emergency system announcement.

"Discovery Station Commander Ivankov will be addressing all station residents in two minutes. Please proceed to your vid screen for this important and mandatory presentation."

Jess reached behind himself, fumbling to turn the shower off.

She relaxed her grip on his shoulders, expecting him to set her down, but he lifted her away and strode out of the fresher. He carried her all the across their room to the bed, where he sat down, still holding her close. They were dripping all over the bedding, but he didn't seem to care. Instead, he simply pulled her against him, then grabbed a blanket to cover them both.

Within seconds, the vid screen flickered to life, and a man who looked strikingly like Jess came into view.

"Who are these guys?" she asked. "Why do they all look like you?"

"They're Saurellians," Jess replied. "And they don't look like me. At least not to anyone besides you."

"Are you sure?" she asked, doubting him. "I thought you looked an awful lot like Logan."

"You're crazy," Jess said, kissing her on top of her head. "I'm a slave, I wasn't even born on the same side of the quadrant as these guys."

She pursed her lips, wondering how he could miss the resemblance. Sure, he and the man on the vid screen looked different. The man was wearing a military hair cut, and his eyes were a different color. But that was just a matter of dress and grooming. Their bone structure was strikingly similar, although Jess was far paler than the man…

"As I'm sure you are aware, the station was attacked early this morning. We have determined that this attack was planned and executed by members of the Pilgrims of the Apocalypse, apparently in response to activity that has taken place on the far side of the asteroid belt.

"Several days ago, our sensors detected an extremely large explosion centered in this region. We have yet to determine who was behind this explosion, but we have assured ourselves that Imperial interference is highly unlikely. Not only have our scouts failed to detect any sign of Imperial spacecraft in the area, we have received assurances from the Imperial capital that they were not involved in this incident. Given the fact that such an attack would cause the Emperor a great deal embarrassment, combined with a complete lack of any understandable motive for such an attack, we find no reason to believe they were involved with events within this system.

"What is clear is that this fringe group holds the Saurellian government responsible for the destruction of a large area they inhabited. I can assure you that our government had no reason to attack, and until now had very little interest in the Pilgrims on any level. Now that they have attacked our facility, this has changed."

He paused, and Bethany shivered, snuggling further into Jess' arms.

"I wonder how many Pilgrim mining camps were destroyed," she whispered.

"I wonder how they were destroyed," he replied, his voice sober. "It takes a hell of a lot of firepower to pull something like that off."

"The majority of those involved with the attack on Discovery Station are dead," the station commander continued, his face stern. "The attack on the station proper appears to have been a suicide attack. The ore processing plant is a different story because timed explosive devices were placed there.

We have also discovered that every known inhabitant of the station who was affiliated with the Pilgrim group evacuated several days ago. We can only assume that plans for such an attack were in place even before the destruction on the far side of the asteroid belt. Presumably, the explosives that caused the destruction there were meant to be used against Discovery Station itself."

He paused for a moment to allow his words to sink in. Jess caught his breath.

"There are more than a million people living on this station," he said quietly.

"I can't believe that!" she replied. "How would my people have pulled off something like that? I'm sure I would have heard something about it. How could you keep a plan like that completely secret? And why would they want to kill all these people?"

"As a result of this attack, the Saurellian Federation feels that it has no choice but to consider the Pilgrims of the Apocalypse a dangerous and unwelcome group. If there are any Pilgrims lefts on the station, they are encouraged to turn themselves in to Saurellian authorities within the next cycle. They will be granted amnesty, and the opportunity to return to Imperial space or build a new life for themselves outside the Pilgrim movement. Those Pilgrims who do not choose to take advantage of this one-time amnesty can expect to be arrested on sight once this 24 hour offer of immunity expires. We have already put plans into place that will allow us to more closely scrutinize everyone entering or leaving the station. If you're one of them, we will find you," he concluded, his voice ringing with controlled menace. She shivered.

"How are we going to get off the station?" she asked quietly. "They'll know that we arrived here on a Pilgrim transport ship. Maybe we should give ourselves up."

"No," he said. "For one thing, we have no idea that they're telling the truth about how they'll treat Pilgrims who turn themselves in. For all we know the poor bastards will be shot for their trouble; it's the sensible thing to do with saboteurs, and the Saurellians are no fools. They're capable of all kinds of things."

"So what are we going to do?"

"We'll brazen it out," he said coolly. "For one, nobody really knows who that ore ship belonged to.

It was registered as a derelict in station records. I simply claimed to have salvaged it before selling it.

From there the trail is even harder to follow. I accepted payment for it in cash—"

"Cash? Isn't that kind of dangerous?" she asked. "How did you know the seller wouldn't just hit you over the head and take the money back?"

"Because I sold it in the Exchange hall," he said. "It's policed by the smuggler's guild. There's no safer place on Discovery Station, trust me. You make one mistake in there and you'll never be seen again. I also bought the new ship there. It's completely clean, brought in a few weeks ago by a traveling Saurellian soldier reporting for duty. He sold it because he didn't need it any more."

"That still won't explain how we got here," she said anxiously. "Won't they find it strange that we appeared on the station out of nowhere and purchased a ship?"

"I've got that covered too," he said, running one hand through her hair absently. "Our new identities belonged to a couple who arrived here on a freighter about two months back. They came to a rather unfortunate end, but their deaths had never been documented. I checked the records myself, before I bought their identities."

She looked at him in horror.

"Were they killed for their identities?" she whispered. "Did they kill them just for us?"

"No," he said. "Not that I'm denying things like that occasionally happen here, but that wasn't the case at all. According to the information broker, they were killed during a botched robbery, and I don't get the impression he was lying to me. It happened weeks before we arrived."

"Oh," she said, still not feeling much better. In some ways, the world outside the mining belt wasn't much safer than what she'd left behind, she thought grimly. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead softly.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Their death had nothing to do with us. We're going to use their names to make a new life for ourselves. That can't hurt them."

"I guess so," she said, still feeling uneasy. "So, now what? Now that we don't have to go after Bragan, does that mean we're finally free to do whatever we want?"

She deliberately didn't mention Calla. He'd been so distant when he first came back to the room, she didn't want him to turn into himself like that again.

"Not quite yet," he said softly, He reached up with one hand and stroked her hair softly. "I still have one more thing to do. Then we'll be free."

"What's that?"

"I need to find Mistress Jenner," he said.

"The woman who used to own you?" she asked. "Isn't she gone? I thought you told me she was a Pilgrim."

"She is a Pilgrim, and she is gone," he said. "She's also the reason that Calla is dead. If she hadn't sold me into the mining belt, then Calla wouldn't have tried to escape. She wouldn't have been killed.

Instead, we'd both be free by now. The Saurellians freed all the slaves at Jenner's hostel when she left."

Bethany bit her lip, unsure of what to say. If he hadn't been sold into the mining belt, she never would have met him. She'd still be there. Or rather, what was left of her would still be there… She—and everyone else—would have been killed in the explosion. She didn't point that out, though. Instead, she held him, wishing she had some way of showing him how much she cared, how much she wished she could take his hurt into herself and heal him.

"I think I know where I can find her," he said softly. "Or at least a place to start looking. We're going to have to move quickly because the Saurellians are going to be looking for her, too. I don't want them to find the bitch before I do."

"You know, if you gave the Saurellians whatever information you have," she said softly, "they're probably reward you and catch her themselves. You can have your revenge that way. You already said they'd probably kill any Pilgrims they caught."

"I want to find her," he said, voice cold. He stiffened in her arms. "I want to find her myself and look her right in the eyes while I kill her. I want her to know why she's dying and who's responsible."

She shivered at his tone. It was as if the tender, caring Jess she'd come to love had disappeared. In his place was a grim and frightening man she hardly recognized; a man who scared her.

"How long do you think it will take you to find her?" she asked.

"I have no idea,' he said. "But I can promise you this. I won't give up until I have."

* * *

Leaving the station wasn't a problem, just as he'd said. After waiting a week for things to calm down, they'd simply filed their paperwork with the station controller and hired a runabout to take them out to the ship. Bethany held her breath until they started slowly pulling by the station's main defenses, amazed that it had been so easy to sneak in and out. No wonder the Pilgrims had been able to attack; the station all but had a revolving door instead of an airlock. She shivered, and hoped that they would find a way to tighten up security before there was another disaster.

"You can never really control a place like this," Jess told her as they pulled away. "There are too many people coming and going, and none of them want their actions examined too closely. If the Saurellians crack down too hard, they'll lose half their commerce. It was the same way when the Empire held the station."

She had nodded, pretending to understand. Sometimes her own ignorance of the outside world frightened her. Jess fell silent, focusing instead on watching the sleek little ship's control board. He wasn't piloting himself, but he seemed to be trying to learn, she realized. It must be unsettling for him to rely solely on the auto-pilot computer. He'd watched the control board on the ore transport, too.

"Is this ship easier to fly than the transport?" she asked after a while.

"Well, it's designed to be relatively simple," he said softly. "But I still think it will take me a long time to figure it out. There are tutorials, but I doubt I'd be able to do much for us in a pinch."

"A pinch?" she asked. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, there are all kinds of things that could go wrong," he said. "If we got caught in the middle of a battle, or more likely if we ran into smugglers…" His voice trailed off.

She stifled a little whimper; it had never occurred to here that there might be predators out in space.

"Are we ever going to find a safe place?" she asked softly. He looked at her with surprise written across his handsome face.

"Of course we are," he said. "There are all kinds of wonderful places out there. We just have to decide which one is right for us. Then we'll sell this ship and build a new life for ourselves. We'll be able to do whatever we want."

"After we kill Jenner," she qualified, her voice soft.

"Of course," he said. He leaned toward her, taking her hands in his and looking into her eyes intently. "I know that it's hard for you to understand, but I have to do this. This woman is responsible for destroying my life and killing my sister."

"Jess, has it ever occurred to you that she's just one cog in an entire system that killed your sister?"

she asked softly. "You've told me that you were created on an Imperial slave farm, that you were born into slavery. Is it really Jenner's fault that she happened to be the one who bought you?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he said abruptly. Something inside her sparked at his condescending tone.

"You're right," she snapped back. "I have no idea what it means to have lived my entire life under someone else's control. I have no idea what it means to work your fingers to the bone and get kicked for your efforts. And of course, I've never had to fear for my life."

The stunned look on his face was priceless, and without thought she burst into bitter laughter. He frowned; she stood and walked out of the cockpit, shaking her head. Men. They were all so arrogant.

How dare he think she wasn't capable of understanding his anger? She just didn't see the purpose in chasing one Pilgrim woman—however cruel—around the quadrant when they had been given a chance to start over with their lives. It wasn't going to bring Calla back.

She stalked down the corridor toward the suite of comfortable rooms that formed the bulk of the small ship's living space. She'd noticed a console in there earlier; perhaps the ship had a library. She needed a distraction.

* * *

Jess gazed after her as she left, utterly confused. How had he become the bad guy? How had a conversation about his suffering ended with him feeling like such an ass?

Of course she knew what suffering was about, he thought angrily. How could she doubt that he understood what kind of pain she had experienced? But her suffering was over; the men who had hurt her were dead. She had her vengeance; it was easy for her to move on.

He couldn't just let Jenner get away with what she had done to destroy him and Calla. She had sold him to the miners deliberately, he knew that. She'd wanted him dead; he knew too many of her dirty little secrets. Sooner or later he would have embarrassed her. Still, he'd thought there was more time.

He shook his head. No point in wishing he could go back. Calla was dead. Jenner had to pay. It was simple enough, so why didn't Bethany understand? Damn woman.

He sat there for several more minutes, trying to concentrate on following the control board as the auto-pilot propelled them to the edges of the system. Once they were good and clear, it would initiate a jump through hyperspace. Not for the first time, he marveled at the technology that made travel across the vast reaches of space possible.

But the computer couldn't hold his attention forever, and his thoughts kept turning back to Bethany.

She had been so upset when she left. He hated seeing her that way. He loved it when her face turned to his with a smile. She had a special way of looking at him that made him feel as if everything in the world was just right. When he came into a room she was always happy to see him. She would jump up and run over to him, giving him kisses interspersed with a thousand questions about some new aspect of life outside the asteroid belt.

None of that life had been in her face when she'd left him. He shook his head and sighed, leaning back in his chair. He needed to go and talk to her.

Leaving the auto-pilot to its mysterious tasks, he walked slowly down the corridor toward their living quarters. For a small ship, it was extremely comfortable. Three sleeping chambers, a sizeable fresher, living area and galley. There was even a small exercise room. Even more amazing to him was that they owned this lovely little vessel. Between the ore shipment and selling the freighter itself, they had done quite well financially. He realized he probably had more money at his disposal than Jenner did. It was a comforting thought. He entered the living area. Bethany was sitting in the living area before the main data terminal. She had to have heard him walk in, but she ignored him. He came to stand behind her, studying what she was doing. She seemed to be scrolling through a history text written in Basic.

"I didn't know whether you could read or not," he said.

She spoke curtly. "While the Pilgrim educational system is not particularly good, we do learn to read," she said.

Damn, he'd said the wrong thing. Now she was even more offended.

"We also took Basic arithmetic and computer programming," she said quieter. "It's fairly difficult to live on a mining station filled with complex equipment like recyclers and our hydroponics gardens without a little bit of education. Of course, I'm sure it's not up to your standards."

"I didn't mean to sound so insulting," he said, bringing his hands up to rest them lightly against her shoulders. She didn't respond, so he started to slowly knead. The muscles were tight beneath his touch; she wasn't going to make this easy.

"I'm also sorry about our discussion in the cockpit," he said. "It was wrong of me to belittle what you've been through. We're both survivors of slavery, just different kinds."

"I'm glad you realize that," she said. He continued kneading her shoulders, feeling some of the tension leave her body. Against his will, he could feel himself growing aroused. The smell of her hair wafted up toward him, and he inhaled deeply. A second later he wished he hadn't. His pants were suddenly too tight and he shifted uncomfortably. She seemed to be completely unaware of his arousal, continuing to scroll through the text before her. The silence between them lengthened, and he shifted again.

"Will you accept my apology?" he said finally. She shrugged her shoulders, and something in him snapped. He needed her forgiveness. He swiveled her chair around and knelt before her. Then he took each of her hands in his and looked directly into her face. She stared back, eyes questioning and a little surprised.

"I'm truly sorry," he said softly. She nodded her head at him, and he smiled. Then leaning forward, he kissed her gently on the lips.

It was a sweet kiss, almost passionless at first. At least on her part. His entire body clamored for him to pull her down, to jump on her and take her. He fought the urge, knowing it would be a terrible mistake. He wanted whatever happened between them next to come from her. He wanted her to acknowledge what he said, to let him know she understood his meaning deep down inside.

He held back a surge of triumph as she leaned forward into the kiss, deepening it slightly. It was still soft, and both of their mouths were still closed. But she was responding, nuzzling at his mouth just as he was nuzzling at hers.

They stayed that way for several minutes, and then he ended the kiss. He leaned his head against her chest, reaching both arms around her slender form to pull her close. She was soft, warm. His. He still wanted her, but that initial physical urgency had disappeared in a rush of emotion. He didn't want to simply roll her beneath him, to take her body with his.

He wanted to be close to her. Bethany. Close to whatever it was about her that had scared him so much a moment earlier when she hadn't wanted to talk to him.

Holding her made everything feel right again.

He could feel her fingers in his hair, stroking gently down, and then she kissed the top of his head.

She shivered, then pulled him tightly against her body. He could feel her shaking, and pulled away to see what was wrong.

She was crying.

A feeling of helplessness washed over him, and he tucked himself back against her, stroking her back in what he hoped was a comforting way.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. Please stop crying, Bethany. I won't do it again, I promise."

That's not why I'm crying," she replied, her voice breaking. "I'm scared, Jess. What will we do if this Jenner woman finds out you're following her? What if she's with other Pilgrims? They might hurt you."

"I won't let them hurt me," he said.

"No?" she asked. "You think you're so powerful? It's a risk and you know it. Don't you understand?

We're free, Jess. We have money. We have time. There's nobody in the whole damn universe who knows or cares where we're going. Why are we following this woman when we could be making a life for ourselves?"

"Because I have to," he said, still holding her. "I have to do this, for my sister and for myself."

"You aren't even sure where to find her," she said quietly. "There are a thousand places she could be, a million places. We could look for her the rest of our lives and never find her. Do you really think your sister would want you to waste your freedom on some stupid quest for revenge?"

He stayed silent, trying not to think of what Calla would say. Calla would agree with Bethany, he knew it in his heart.

But Calla and Bethany were women. They needed protection from the harsh things of life, couldn't possibly understand why he had to find Jenner, to kill her. Every time Bethany sniffled, pain ripped through him. He hated this; hate the fact that she was suffering. He had to get her to stop crying or he would end up crazy.

So he lifted his head again, this time taking her mouth in a kiss that was completely different from that he'd given her before. This was a kiss meant to seduce. He nibbled at her lips, ignoring the salty taste of her tears, and she opened before him.

He pulled her entire body forward on the chair so that her breasts were pressing against his chest and her legs wrapped around him. He dug his fingers into her hair, holding her still for his touch, and as his tongue delved into her mouth, she whimpered. She shifted against him and his cock leapt to attention.

There was nothing new in that; it seemed like he'd had a full erection since the first time he'd seen her. No matter how much they made love, it was never enough.

He pulled his mouth away, ignoring her little sigh of disappointment as the kiss ended. His lips fell to her neck. There he traced the lines of her throat with one hand, each light touch followed by a kiss. He was filled with the realization of how special she was to him, how much his happiness was intricately and inevitably wound up in hers. He didn't have any way to tell her his feelings with words, though. He had to let his touch speak; he could only hope she would understand.

She whispered something as he kissed the hollow at the bottom of her throat, but he ignored it. If she was telling him to stop, he didn't want to hear it. He had to show her how much she meant to him, that they were made for each other.

She sighed and leaned back in the chair, allowing her arms to fall to one side. He took advantage of the change by gently opening the front of her blouse. It was soft, silky. So different from anything she'd worn on the Pilgrim station that he'd been concerned at fist that she wouldn't like it.

She had loved it, just as she loved all the new clothing he brought her. She treated each item like an exquisite gift, though they were clothing any other woman would take for granted. She took nothing for granted, he thought. It was just one more thing he loved about Bethany. She was so very alive.

He kissed down the opening of her shirt, enjoying the feel of her breasts rising on either side of his face. He moved down along the curve of one, dropping light kisses on it and nosing the underside of the swell with infinite gentleness. She gasped, and he smiled. He did the same to the other side, taking care not to touch her nipples. Indeed, fabric clung to them, twin points keeping the silky fabric from falling away to either side. He sat back for a minute, just enjoying the sight of her. She was spread before him wantonly, her face filled with nothing more than sheer pleasure in the moment.

He reached up with both hands, cupping her breast lightly through the fabric, allowing it to slide back and forth across her nipples until she shivered. The tight tips pressed against his fingers, and she arched her back in the chair.

"Jess…"

He smiled, then pushed the cloth aside. Her breasts were so lovely. Not too large, but full and round, gentle mounds topped with red nipples that cried out for some kind of attention from him. He wouldn't leave them wanting, he vowed.

Leaning forward, he took one of them into his mouth, sucking it deeply. She gasped, and raised one had to cup his head. He ignored her, moving back slowly until her nipple was free. She whimpered a protest, but before she could do more, he started on the other nipple. Back and forth he went, sucking deeply one time, flicking lightly with his tongue the next. She was whimpering more and more, her lower body twisting in the chair. The time had come to move to the next level, he thought with satisfaction.

Soon she would be screaming for him.

Careful not to break the sensual spell that had come over them, he trailed one finger down across her stomach, pausing only briefly at her navel, then slid it beneath the loose waistband of the silky pants that matched her top. She had loved this particular outfit immediately, he remembered with a smile. It was sensual and modern, but also similar to what she had worn most her life. The pants were full, almost as full as a skirt, and they flowed around her as she walked like a bright river. She had laughed at herself when she'd first seen herself wearing them in a mirror, but she looked beautiful.

The ache in his cock grew stronger; a damp spot appeared between her legs. She wanted him almost as much as he wanted her, he though in satisfaction. For one second he was tempted to simply rip the pants off and pull her down.

No.

This was about giving her pleasure, showing her how much she meant to him, he reminded himself.

Beside that, she would be upset if he ripped the pants, he thought with a grin. No matter that a thousand other women owned pants just like them, they were precious to her.

Instead, he allowed his fingers to reach down past the elastic, pulling it lower as he went. There it was, the forest of dark brown curls that marked her most private place. He touched her there, fingers growing damp as her moisture washed over him. There was her clit, a tiny piece of flesh that had the power to give so much pleasure that the world was hardly big enough to contain it. He rubbed one finger against it, feeling the slick flesh glide smoothly over the rough skin of his finger. Above him, she shivered.

Oh, she liked that all right.

He rubbed it again, this time pressing still lower between her legs, finding the folds of her labia and nudging them apart. Instinctively, her legs parted for him, giving him greater access. He dropped his head to her stomach, kissing it softly and trailing his tongue into the small indentation that marked its center. He slid his fingers into her body, resting his cheek against her stomach for a moment as the sheer need to be inside her nearly overwhelmed him. He froze, willing his unruly cock to behave. This was about her, not him.

When he felt like he was back in command of his own senses, he slid the finger in again, allowing a second digit to join it. Tenderly, he rubbed back and forth, moving in and out of her body with great care, as if she were some rare and precious porcelain he was afraid of breaking. The image brought a smile to his face. She was rare and precious, but she wouldn't break. Not easily, he knew that for certain.

How many women could have survived what she had, and with such courage?

He kissed her again, and then he trailed more kisses down her belly. He pulled his hand out from her pants, allowing the waistband to slide back up, then kissed down over the soft fabric. She shivered, and then he was at the spot between her legs where his fingers had teased her just seconds earlier. He pressed forward with his tongue, clearly outlining her clitoris through the silk, and she gasped.

"Jess, you're going to kill me," she whispered.

He didn't reply, stiffening his tongue and centering it on her clit instead. She twisted against him so he brought both hands up to her hips to steady her. He wasn't going to let anything interfere with her pleasure, not now. Not when she was so close.

Inhaling her scent deeply, he set back to work on her clit. At first the fabric between them seemed a barrier, but as it grew wetter, it provided a delicious friction between them. Every tiny, perfect strand of silk massaged her clit as he moved. She bucked against him, silently begging him for more.

He renewed his efforts, determined to bring her to orgasm with only his tongue. He stabbed her with it again and again until her hands gripped the back of his head, pulling him closer to her body. She was shaking and gasping; she had to be close. Now to bring her over the edge.

Without warning, he let go of her hips and reached down under her legs. He pulled her lower body forward off the chair, slinging her legs over his shoulders and grinding her clit into his face. She gave out a low moan as he sucked her clit, still encased in the fabric, deeply into his mouth. Her hips heaved against him violently. He sucked again, working her with his tongue and rubbing his nose against her mound. She twisted, then exploded in his arms with a gutteral cry

He could feel the orgasm in her legs as they stiffened and clenched his head. He could feel it in the moisture that flooded his mouth, too, so much that it easily saturated the silk and filled his mouth. He continued sucking her, more gently now, as the waves of pleasure washed over her and she slowly relaxed. Then he eased her legs back over his shoulders and lowered her to the chair.

Putting his arms back around her waist, he cuddled against her, enjoying the rushing of her blood and the pounding of her heart beneath his ear. It was a beautiful thing to hold his woman, he thought to himself. A beautiful thing indeed.

After a few moments she leaned forward, kissing him gently on the head.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Without pausing to think, he spoke. "Bethany, I love you," he said. "I don't want to fight with you, I only want to be with you and share pleasure with you."

She grew still.

"I love you, too, Jess," she said quietly. "I've loved you for a long time, I think."

"Thank you," he whispered. He took a deep breath, then lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she cuddled into him. He loved it when she held him like that. It made him feel so strong, as if she depended on him for everything.

As if she would never leave him.

He lay her down on the bed, following her down and kissing her long and slow. This time it would be for both of them. He dropped his hand between her legs, and she whimpered. She bucked against him, pushing his lower body back. He pulled his hips away, confused at first. Comprehension dawned as she used the extra space to slither out of her pants. Then she wrapped both legs up and around his waist.

He tore his lips free of hers, and they both gasped for air.

"Jess, let me this time," she said. He nodded, and together they rolled to the center of the bed. Now Bethany was on top of him, straddling him. He reached up and slid the fabric off her shoulders. Her breasts heaved as she drew her breath in. Her face was soft, then a little smile stole across it. A wicked gleam came into her eyes and without warning her fingers dug into his side, tickling him viciously.

He howled, bucking against her body in protest. She simply laughed, and tickled him harder. They wrestled together, fighting for control, and finally she wound up beneath him again. She grinned up at him unrepentantly.

"Why did you do that?" he demanded. She laughed breathlessly.

"Because you were looking just a little bit too smug for your own good."

He shook his head, then leaned down to kiss her. Again she started tickling him, and this time managed to buck him off. He fell to one side, completely surprised by her second attack. She jumped up, kneeling on the bed and laughing at his startled look. Caught in the moment, he laughed back, unable to control himself. She was so adorable. Bethany was his woman—naked, completely free of guile.

He started crawling slowly toward her, and she inched backward.

"Think you can catch me?" she asked archly.

"Oh, I know I can catch you," he replied with a grin. "The only question I have is what I'm going to do with you once I have you. I think you need to be punished."

Her grin faltered. For a moment her lower lip trembled, then she whispered in a frightened voice,

"Jess, please don't hurt me."

Stunned, he stopped and stared in dawning horror.

"Bethany, I would never hurt you," he said softly. She looked deep into his eyes, holding him with her gaze. He didn't even see the pillow until it hit him in the face, knocking him to one side.

"Gotcha," she shrieked, breaking into new peals of laughter. He growled and scrambled after her.

Now she would really pay.

He caught her from behind, just as she reached the edge of the bed. He pulled her naked body back against his, shuddering as she came into contact with his aroused cock. Time to show her who was in charge, he thought.

Reaching between them, he loosened his pants and shoved them down. Then he thrust into her wet opening and they both moaned.

"Damn, Jess," she muttered. "You don't do it half way, do you?"

"Nope," he replied. "This is what you get for tricking me like that."

"I guess I've been very bad," she said lightly. She wiggled her butt against him, and he groaned.

"You'd better punish me."

"Witch."

She gave a bright, tinkling laugh and deliberately squeezed him deep inside.

Gripping her waist tightly, he started moving back and forth, roughly delving deep into her body with each motion.

She was hot and slick for him, pushing back against him in a rocking motion that took his breath away. He tried to reach down between them, to touch her clit, but he couldn't quite make it. Fortunately she didn't seem to care or notice; even as he felt a fine sheen of sweat coat his body, he could see the flesh of her back starting to shine. Every part of him seemed centered on the point where they connected.

Her flesh enclosed him time and again, squeezing him until he felt like screaming. The need to let loose in her, to allow his seed to shoot out, was almost painful in its intensity. But he wasn't ready yet; he didn't want to come until she did. This was for both of them, he reminded himself.

She grunted now, little pants of sound that escaped her mouth every time their bodies slapped together. Their movements grew jerkier, every motion a struggle toward that pinnacle that awaited them.

Jess gritted his teeth, holding back the release. Not yet.

Her groans turned into whimpers, then every muscle in her body clenched, including those surrounding his cock. She gave a high-pitched wail, and he lost control. Seed exploded out of him into her body; his fingers clutched her so tightly he knew there would be bruises later. He closed his eyes, threw back his head, and allowed the waves of orgasm to engulf both of them.

Chapter Fourteen

Berengaria Space Port, Three Months Later

Bethany looked at Jess in disgust.

"I can't believe you're doing this," she said. "I have never given you any reason to believe I intend to leave you. For love of the Goddess, I don't even know how to survive on my own. Can't you just trust me for once?"

They were sitting in the living area, having reached their sixth destination. It was a small planet, but one where Jess knew Jenner had friends. Or at least business partners. He'd decided from the first that they'd start with known associates and go from there.

Jess turned his head, refusing to look at her.

"I can't be out there looking for Jenner and worrying about you at the same time," he said, pulling on a boot with quick and rough motions. "This is a strange port, and a dangerous one. If I know you're safe, I'll be safe."

"I'll be safe as long as I stay on the ship, right?" she asked tartly. "But you don't trust me to stay on the ship by myself."

He didn't reply. Instead, he stood and pulled on a jacket made of dark leather he'd purchased it in the last port. His hair was pulled back with another strip of the same leather, tied neatly at his nape. It was quite long now, reaching nearly half way down his back. She watched him thoughtfully, realizing he hadn't cut it since his escape from the mining camp. Was that on purpose; was it part of a disguise? He slipped a knife—the same one he'd used to cut her hair with that fateful day of the rebellion—into a scabbard in his boot and stood. She shivered and hugged herself. He looked quietly menacing, a different man from the Jess who shared her bed and laughed with her.

"You'll be fine here while I'm gone," he said. "There's plenty of food and we're hooked into the planetary 'net. There's enough credit on deposit with the port for you to order anything you need."

"Except my freedom."

"Except that," he said. "But don't worry, if something happens to me they'll come to check on you in three days. I've already made the arrangements."

"Thanks," she said tightly.

"I suppose a kiss goodbye is out of the question?" he asked.

"Good guess," she said, turning away from him.

Bethany fumed as he strode out of the ship. Once again, she was locked into their living quarters.

Once again he had chosen not to trust her, despite the fact that she had done nothing to betray that trust.

She hadn't even considered leaving him, yet he insisted on locking her in like a wayward child.

She stood and walked over to the data terminal, idly flicking on the port information channel. It looked like a horrible place, she thought. Certainly not the kind of place that would tempt anyone bent on escape. Barengaria had only been settled for two centuries, and the air was not yet breathable. The entire population lived in a series of domes, venturing outside only long enough to tend the machinery which ran a string of chemical plants. Some day, in another two or three hundred years, the entire planet would be suitable for farming. Billions of people would have food to eat because of the work being done in this port. But for now, it was still a hell-hole.

She flicked through several more information channels, then took a deep breath. She was feeling sick to her stomach again. Lately it seemed like she was sick all the time, although she'd tried to hide it from Jess. She knew he would worry about her, but she was fine. It was just a little stomach trouble.

Standing carefully, she made her way into the fresher and knelt before the waste unit. Within seconds it came. A flood of vomit rushed out of her, sickening her further with its smell. Usually it stopped with that, but this time it was worse. Her stomach heaved again and again, and resentment for Jess' lack of trust built in her. The stress of being locked up every time they came into port was probably responsible for her illness.

Two hours later she wasn't so sure. She had never felt so sick in her life. She had long run out of anything to vomit, yet the heaves kept coming. Shaking and weak, she stood up and stumbled out into the main room. Time to consult the auto-doc; this was ridiculous.

The complex machine was located in a closet-sized storage area between two of the bedrooms.

Neither of them had used it, although Jess had pointed it out to her not long after they first came onto the ship. Fortunately, it was designed to be simple to operate. There were a series of instructions with pictures detailing how to turn it on. She followed them and was rewarded when the unit blinked to life and a cool voice asked, "How may I help you?"

"I'm feeling sick," she said. "I've been vomiting."

"Please disrobe and seat yourself in the unit for an examination," the voice replied. A panel slid open, revealing a reclining chair/bed. She slid out of her clothing and climbed into it carefully, feeling somewhat intimidated.

As soon as she was seated, the voice spoke again.

"I will now close the panel door and begin the examination," the voice said. "Please lie back and relax. I will need to take several tissue samples. A sleeve will now enclose your right arm, facilitating this."

Before she had time to protest, her arm was wrapped in a metal sleeve. The lights dimmed, and soothing music started to play. She hardly noticed as the panel slid shut, enclosing her fully within the unit.

Her seat reclined back and she noticed a tangy scent in the air. Then she was drifting to sleep. Her last thought was a vague hope that Jess wouldn't come back while she was still in here. He'd probably think she ran away…

* * *

Bethany yawned and stretched. Strange, her bed didn't feel like it usually did. There was music playing, too.

"Please remain in the examination chair until you are fully awake," a smooth, emotionless voice said.

Her eyes popped open; she tried to remember where she was. In the auto-doc. She shifted, and felt slight discomfort in several places. What had the damned thing done to her while she was out?

"I have your examination results," the auto-doc said. "All system functions appear to be normal and within regular parameters. Fetal system functions are normal as well."

"Fetal?" she asked, growing suddenly still. "Are you saying I'm pregnant?"

"Pregnancy is confirmed," the machine replied. "Fetus age is estimated at six weeks."

"How is that possible?" she asked. The machine hummed for a second, then spoke again.

"Please refine question."

"How is it that I am pregnant?"

"Pregnancy appears to be the result of sexual intercourse, although further examination would be required to rule out artificial insemination," the machine responded. She burst out laughing.

"I know how people get pregnant," she said after a moment, wiping her eyes. She felt light-headed, out of breath. She raised one hand to her stomach, trying to feel something. Everything was just as it always was. She frowned, trying to remember her last menstrual period. When had it been?

"I had been under the impression that I was infertile," she said finally.

"Nothing in my tests indicates that you have ever been infertile," the auto-doc replied emotionlessly.

"The diagnosis was incorrect."

The diagnosis was incorrect. But how? So many years she and Avram had lived together. He'd had children with his previous wives; why not her?

She sighed, realizing she would probably never have an answer to that question. Moving creakily, she rolled out of the chair and stepped out of the auto-doc.

Pulling on her clothing, everything seemed unreal. She was going to have a baby. Jess' baby. It was so amazing, so beautiful that she felt like crying. She drifted out into the main room, wanting to tell him.

Wanting to tell someone, anyone, about the miracle taking place in her belly.

Unfortunately, she was still completely alone.

Unable to contain herself, she wrapped both arms around her body and whooped, squeezing herself tightly. If only he was here. They would hold each other, talk about the child. Would it be a boy or a girl, she wondered? Would it look like him? She rubbed her stomach again, mind filling with possibilities. This was so much better than anything she could have imagined; they would have a child together. Perhaps more than one. Neither of them had ever had a real family, but they would make one now.

This chasing of Jenner had to end, though. They needed to find a place to live, a way to support themselves. He kept insisting that they had plenty of money, but she wasn't so sure. It couldn't last forever. Beside that, it was one thing to traipse half-way across known space in search of vengeance with only themselves to think of; it was quite another to drag a child around like that. They didn't even have the kinds of supplies they would need for a baby. She wanted a home of some sort, a real home. And a real doctor, she thought darkly. There was no way she wanted that talking closet to examine her baby, let alone deliver it.

She and Jess were going to have a talk when he got back. He needed to choose. He'd get either his revenge or her, not both. She had to get firm with him because it wasn't just about the two of them any more.

* * *

Jess stalked across the port, bitter anger seeping from every pore of his body. She had been here.

Just days earlier she'd left; he'd been so close to her that he could still smell her foul, unwashed body with every breath he took. Bitch.

At least he had a good lead, though. There was no way she'd get away from him this time. She was headed to Jezra, and from there to Karos, the Pilgrim homeworld. He had to catch her before she left Jezra, though. Karos crawled with Pilgrims, and the last thing he wanted to do was surround himself with more of those foul snakes.

He caught a shuttle out to the pad where the ship was docked. It had taken him less than a day to track down his information; hopefully Bethany wasn't going to be too angry with him, although he wasn't betting on it. He could understand her feelings; of all people, he knew what it felt like to lose one's freedom. He hated being contained, subject to the will of another. But the thought of her leaving him made his heart clench. She told him she wouldn't do it. She assured him again and again, but he couldn't bring himself to trust her completely. He wanted to, but he couldn't quite do it. If he was wrong, the penalty was simply too high.

The transport latched on to the ship's airlock, and a moment later he stepped inside. There was a slight whooshing noise as it cycled shut, and then he entered the main corridor. It only took a few strides to reach the locked living quarters and open the door. She jumped up, her face glowing and excited. He paused, confused and immediately suspicious. Why was she so happy to see him? Usually she was spitting mad after he'd locked her up.

"Jess," she called, running up to him. She grabbed both of his hands with hers, and squeezed them.

"I have wonderful news, Jess. We're going to have a baby. I'm pregnant."

He froze, completely shocked. Her lovely green eyes, bright with hope and excitement, looked up at him expectantly, and the meaning of her words filtered through his consciousness. They were going to have a baby.

He pulled her close, kissing her. She was laughing, and to his shock he realized moisture was collecting in his eyes. Then he pulled her up into his arms and swung her around, whooping. A baby. A little piece of him and Bethany.

She shrieked with laughter and pounded against him until he set her down, and they leaned against each other breathlessly.

"How long?" he asked.

"The auto-doc says I'm six weeks along," she said. "That gives us plenty of time to find a place to live."

He nodded, mind moving quickly.

"It will only take a few more weeks to track down Jenner," he said. "I've already been thinking about where we should…" His voice trailed off as he realized she had stiffened in his arms.

"Jess, you have to give this up," she said softly.

"What do you mean?"

"You have to give up this hunt you're on," she said. Her eyes searched his anxiously. "We're going to have a child, Jess. Taking care of that child has to be our primary responsibility."

Some of the joy faded as he realized what she was saying.

"Bethany, I know where Jenner is," he said. "She's on her way to Jezra; she only left a few days ago.

All we have to do is go there and get her. Then we'll be free."

"We're free already," she said, shaking her head. "If we keep chasing after her, who knows how much longer it will take."

"Two weeks," he repeated. "All we need is two more weeks."

"You thought she would be here," Bethany countered. "You swore to me that she would be here, that we'd be finished with this by now. You have no way of knowing whether she'll be there or not, do you?"

"If she's not there then she'll be on Karos."

"Karos?" Bethany exclaimed, her tone rising in distress. "That's half way across the Empire. I've been studying, you know. I know where things are. It's also the Pilgrim homeworld. You'll have no way of getting to her there. You'll stick out; they'll catch you immediately. There is no way I'll allow you to take me to Karos"

"You don't allow me to do anything," he said, his emotions twisting and turning so quickly he could hardly keep up. "I'm the one in charge. You do what I say."

She stood back from him, both hands planted on her hips.

"Are you prepared to be a father to this child?" she asked. "Because if you are, then you have no business following some damn stupid quest for revenge. You'll get yourself killed, and then where will we be? Where will your child be?"

He shook his head, forcibly restraining himself from reaching out and shaking her. She just didn't understand. He had to find Jenner. He had to make her pay for what she'd done to him, to Calla; if he didn't, she would haunt him forever.

"I see you're more interested in getting your revenge than taking care of your family," Bethany said quietly, her face bleak. She turned and walked away from him. He strode after her, grabbing her arm.

She stiffened, glaring at him until he let her go.

"I would prefer to sleep in one of the other rooms tonight," she said. "I've been feeling sick, and I think we'd both be more comfortable that way."

She was lying; she just wanted to get away from him. He opened his mouth to disagree with her, then closed it slowly. She was right. It was better to take a little time and let their emotions cool off. They could discuss things again in the morning. He had too much to think about right now, and the last thing he wanted to do was say something he'd regret.

Nodding abruptly, he turned away from her. She disappeared into one of the rooms, and he wandered over to the kitchen to grab some food. His thoughts moved at a thousand miles per second.

There was a baby growing in her belly, his baby. They were going to be a family.

His frustration fled before the thought, and a silly grin came across his face. Grabbing a meat roll, he wandered into his room and flopped down on the bed.

He was going to be a daddy. Life was good.

* * *

Bethany sat and brushed her hair. Again and again she pulled the brush through the brown locks, the childhood ritual comforting in its familiarity. It was much shorter now, a remnant of what she'd once had.

She smiled wryly, remembering how afraid she'd been when Jess had whipped out that enormous knife and cut her free with it. She knew now he would never deliberately hurt her, at least not physically. She'd thought he was going to kill her back then, but what he'd done instead was far more devious. He'd made her fall in love with him and now he was ripping her heart out.

She had been patient with his quest. She didn't like chasing Jenner, but she liked being with Jess.

She understood he had his demons to lay to rest. But it wasn't just about her anymore—it was about their baby. After the first euphoria of discovery had worn off earlier that afternoon, she'd given her situation a lot of thought. She knew how determined Jess was to find and kill Jenner. She also knew that she and her child wouldn't be safe on such a quest, especially if that quest led them to Karos. She'd given him his chance to accept the baby and give up his hatred, but he had thrown in back in her face.

She was going to have to leave him.

A traitorous part of her mind whispered at her to stay, to give him another chance. After all, he might be right. Jenner might be at the next port they visited. Or she might not be there. Then what? They would go on to Karos, the root of all Pilgrim activity. Just the thought of it made her shiver in horror. He was almost sure to be captured there, and if he were captured, she would be, too. She would probably live; they would see value in a pregnant woman. But there was no way she'd risk such a life for her child, not after she'd seen what the other options were. She was going to have her baby in freedom. Her baby wouldn't grow up to be a Pilgrim no matter what she had to do, no matter how painful it would be.

Standing, she pulled her hair back out of the way and fastened it carefully. She stood, stretched, and took a minute to breath deeply, calming herself for the task ahead. She already had what she needed hidden in one of the drawers. It only took a second to get it out and slide it into her pocket.

She opened the door and stepped into the main room. As she suspected, he had already gone to bed. He had to be tired after his hunt; he always was. That, combined with the sedative she'd dribbled over his meat rool, would be enough to weaken him. She took another deep breath and forced a calm smile on to her face. Time to face him.

She opened the door to the suite they usually shared. A small, dim light glowed against one of the walls. He had fixed it there for her, she remembered painfully. One night she'd tried to go to the fresher and tripped. He hadn't mentioned it beyond checking to see if she was all right, but the next night the little light had been glowing. He was so thoughtful of her needs. How was it that he could be oblivious to the fact that his woman and child needed him now?

She shook her head, pushing the thoughts away. Time to focus on her task.

He was lying in bed, apparently asleep, but as she approached his eyes cracked open.

"Bethany?" he asked. He reached out one arm for her, struggling to sit up. Her heart clenched again.

"Yes, it's me," she said softly, coming to sit next to him. He tried to sit up again but couldn't.

"Sorry, I'm just so tired," he whispered, voice trailing off. "I don't know why I feel this way."

"Don't worry," she said. "It's all going to be fine." she leaned over and kissed him on the lips. Then, before she could change her mind, she slipped the air-syringe the auto-doc had prepared to her specifications earlier and pressed it against his upper arm. Confusion registered in his eyes as it pierced his skin, but the sedative was fast acting. Within seconds he was completely out.

To her disgust, she could feel tears welling up in her traitorous eyes. She didn't want to leave him like this. She didn't want to leave him at all. You don't have a choice, she reminded herself. It's not about you any more; it's about the baby.

Quickly, she left the room and retrieved the small bag she'd packed earlier. She'd put her time at the data terminal to good use. She already knew the time and place of departure for the Grandal, a freighter bound deep into Saurellian territory. It would be slow but safe. Jess had never bothered hiding his stash of credit vouchers from her, so money was no issue. She pawed through the pile of vouchers, trying to decide how much she should take. She wanted to leave him plenty to continue his quest, but at the same time she had to be sure there was enough money for her and the baby. Finally she simply scooped half into her bag, hoping it would be enough. She didn't really know how much things cost anyway, she realized. She had so much to learn it was frightening at times.

Stepping through the door of the living area into the main corridor, she made her way quickly to the cockpit. This was the hard part—she'd seen him call out on the radio several times, but she wasn't even quite sure how to turn the thing on. She fiddled with several dials and knobs before a soft voice spoke.

"This is the ship's computer. May I be of assistance?"

She jumped, then laughed nervously. How silly she was. The computer would call a transport for her.

"I need a transport to the Grandal," she said. "Can you arrange that?"

"Certainly," the computer said. It fell silent, although several lights on the flickering display flashed.

"Transportation has been arranged. Please go to the airlock and I will inform you when transportation arrives."

"Thank you," she said, running one hand over her hair nervously. It was so strange to be leaving the ship without Jess. She just hoped she was able to take care of herself.

Don't be a ninny, she thought firmly. Of course she would be able to take care of herself. She didn't have a choice; the baby needed her.

She left the cockpit and walked down to the airlock. The wait seemed to last forever. Was something wrong? She kept looking nervously toward the door to the living quarters, a part of her expecting Jess to burst out any minute. That was ridiculous, of course. He would be asleep for at least twenty-four hours. The auto-doc had assured her of it.

A green light lit up over the hatch, and the computer spoke to her again.

"Ground transportation has arrived," it said. "Please proceed into the airlock."

The door slid open. Taking a deep breath, she stepped through it.

Chapter Fifteen

Two Months Later

Bethany stretched wearily, and pulled the last of her possessions out of the small storage locker she'd been assigned after booking passage on the Grandal. It was a good thing she hadn't brought much with her, she thought wryly. She looked at her bunk, one of twenty in the cramped room, and sighed in relief. After two months of travel she was finally going to be getting off the decrepit old freighter that had taken her away from Jess. She'd had no idea space travel could be that slow and uncomfortable.

Just thinking of his name was enough to make tears well up in her eyes. It disgusted her, this emotional weakness that seemed to come with pregnancy. Not only was she desperately lonely for Jess, she was an emotional wreck. According to what she'd read, such emotional upheaval was normal during pregnancy, but that didn't make it any easier. Not by a long shot.

She went down to the holding area, mingling with a mixed group of fellow passengers and ship's crew. None of them spoke with each other. The crew kept to themselves, and the passengers were all there for the same reason. They'd been desperate to get away from Barengaria and didn't have enough money to travel like civilized beings. She suspected that more than a few of them might even be on the run. It wasn't a situation that led naturally to comradely feelings.

They stood silently, waiting for the next shuttle to the surface of Vlaxon, a small, agricultural planet that was next on the Grandal's slow run of borderline worlds. The population wasn't huge, but she hoped it was large enough for a woman to lose herself in. According to one of her fellow passengers, there was often seasonal work available in the fields. Having never been out in the open on a planet before, she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Would the sky be frightening to her? Or would it be exciting, a time of new discovery? Either way, she had to have a job, had to find a way to feed her child. If she had fears, she'd get over them, she thought grimly.

The light over the airlock turned green, and the doors leading into the shuttle opened. They all stood back as a group of planetary officials came out. One of them, a tall woman with bright red hair in a gray uniform, spoke.

"May I have your attention," she called out. "Before we allow you to enter the shuttle and descend to the surface, we will need to see your paperwork. There will be a more extensive interview down below before you can leave the area of the spaceport. Please form a single line starting here."

She drew a line on the floor with her shoe, and they obediently lined up.

Bethany shuffled into place with the rest of them, suddenly anxious that her new identity wouldn't hold up. The woman hardly bothered to glance at it when her turn came, waving her through quickly enough. Bethany entered the shuttle and found a seat. It was good to be leaving the freighter, she reminded herself. Deep down inside, she was terrified.

When the shuttle was full, the doors closed and they pulled away from the ship. There were no windows, but the pull of gravity as they came into the atmosphere told its own story. The shuttle was moving very quickly, indeed.

Ten minutes later they were on the ground, and she stood. Time to see her new home.

Disappointingly enough, she didn't walk out of the shuttle into a wide, open vista of sky. Instead she found herself in a corridor, constructed of the same metal that could be found in a thousand ships.

Everything looked the same as it did on the space station.

She followed the crowd of people down the hallway. The closer they got to the end, the louder the noise grew. The sounds of the port were starting to envelop them. A hundred merchants all vied for attention at the same time. Advertisements, holographic and flat screen, flashed out at her from the walls and ceilings. She could feel a headache growing behind her eyes—it was all too much. Agricultural planet or not, this space port was just as noisy as the one on Discovery Station.

The end of the corridor was upon her. Her companions of the last two weeks moved quickly, dispersing in different directions, never to be seen again. Everything seemed a bit unreal. She stood, trying to decide which direction to go, when someone grabbed her arm.

"Hello Bethany," Jess said quietly. She stiffened, turning to look at him. What was he doing here?

How had he found her?

"I'm glad I caught up to you," he said, his voice a menacing whisper. She looked into his beloved face and her heart froze. He was angry, terribly angry. Far angrier than she' ever seen before, which was saying a lot.

"Jess, what you are doing here?" she whispered, swaying with shock. He smiled at her, baring his teeth like some kind of feral animal.

"I'm here to pick up something that belongs to me," he said. "Something that was misplaced."

She shivered and he laughed. The noise had nothing to do with amusement.

"Don't look so afraid," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you. I was a fool to trust you before; I won't make that mistake again. Come with me."

He turned, pulling her along behind him as if she weighed nothing. She tried to pull back and he stopped abruptly, dragging her close to his body.

"You will follow me and you will keep quiet," he said with cold menace. "If you do anything to draw attention to us, I swear to you you'll regret it. Do I make myself clear?" she nodded, eyes wide. He had made himself very clear.

They moved through the concourse, surrounded by the sights and smells of a thousand worlds. She didn't bother to look around. It was all too confusing and frightening. Just imagining how and why Jess was here made her head hurt. He turned down another corridor, similar to the one she'd arrived on but much smaller. They reached the end and joined a short line of people. Jess pulled her close to his body, wrapping one arm tightly around her waist. His face leaned in to her ear and he whispered," Behave."

She nodded, but he didn't reply. Instead he kept his head lowered to hers, inhaling deeply as if drinking in her scent. She could feel his warmth around her, feel the strength of his arms flexing through his shirt. Desire for him flickered to life, dancing along her nerves, and she gritted her teeth.

It wasn't enough that he caught her, she thought in disgust. Her traitorous body had to want him, too.

It wasn't fair.

They entered the shuttle and took a place toward the back. A small console on the back of the seat before them lit up, and Jess leaned over, punching information into it.

"This will take us back to our ship," he said. "The trip will take a while because they'll be going to several other ships first. I don't want to hear a word out of you while we're here."

She nodded, sitting back in the seat and waiting. A tone buzzed; it was time for launch. She braced herself as the gravity pressed her back in her seat, swallowing nervously. It hadn't taken her long to decide that she didn't like this particular part of traveling.

The trip was slow and grueling. Tension grew between them with every stop. By the time they reached the ship, she as almost grateful for an excuse to move; anything was better than sitting with him in this horrible silence.

The people around them seemed oblivious to their private battle. What would happen if she called out to them for help, she wondered? Would they care? What would she say?

If she told the truth, Jess might be charged with kidnapping, assuming that was a crime here. She couldn't allow that to happen, she thought quickly. She wanted to protect him.

"We're the next stop," he said finally. A few minutes later the transport gave a small shudder, and they locked on to a dock. Jess stood, waiting for her to go ahead of him. She did so, keeping her eyes down. She didn't want to look around, didn't want to watch the people around her as she blushed in humiliation.

They walked out into a small docking station. It was little more than a waiting area, with several long corridors leading off in every direction.

"The ship is out at the end of concourse seven," Jess said, taking her arm. His grip was firm, as if he expected her to run. Not likely, she thought. There was nothing here, nowhere to go. They walked quickly down the corridor, passing several airlocks. Finally he stopped in front of one, inserting a small card into the command box. Seconds later the door whisked open. He pulled her in after him, and then they entered the ship.

"Living quarters," he grated out, nodding his head abruptly to indicate where he wanted her to go.

She ducked her head and did as he said. He had changed things, she realized as soon as she stepped inside. The furniture had been moved to accommodate something new, an enclosure made out of translucent bars running from floor to ceiling.

A cage. Right in the main room.

"Where did that come from?" she asked, shocked into stopping, He pushed her forward, one hand against her back.

"You aren't seriously expecting me to go in there," she asked. "You can't!"

"Only when I can't be here to watch you," he said, his voice completely void of emotion.

"That's horrible," she said, feeling suddenly panicky. "You can't expect me to do that. I won't."

"You don't have a choice," he said. "Sit down." He gestured to the couch. She turned on him, and for a moment she considered attacking him, biting him, anything to get away. His gaze was cold and steady, his muscular arms flexed. He seemed to read her mind.

"Don't try it," he said. "You'll regret it."

She turned and walked over to the couch, trying to compose herself. She wasn't going to get out of this one. Her luck was finally up, she realized. Whatever softness she had seen in Jess before appeared to be gone.

"How did you find me?"

"Well, you left several clues," he said in a sarcastic tone. "Among other things, you used the ship's computer to call for transport, and asked it to take you to the Grandal. That was my first clue. That, and it was the only ship leaving the planet at that time."

"And your ship was faster," she said, filled with understanding. How could she have been so stupid?

Catching her had been child's play for him, she thought in disgust. "Why did you come after me, Jess?"

For the first time, some of that cold anger left his face. He looked a little surprised.

"What did you think I would do?" he asked.

"I thought you would go after Jenner. By chasing me here you may have lost track of her."

"I'll find her eventually," he replied coldly. "But I couldn't just let you go traipsing off. You have no survival skills. You'd end up dead or enslaved at this rate."

She lifted her chin defiantly.

"I don't think you're giving me enough credit,' she said. "I didn't just take off without a plan, you know. I did my research. I certainly had enough time trapped alone on the ship to do it," she added bitterly.

"And just what was this brilliant plan?" he asked, sneering. "And what about my child? How did he factor into your thinking? Or were you going to get rid of him?"

"I would never do that!" she gasped, one hand rising to cover her stomach protectively. "What kind of monster do you think I am?"

"The kind who would stab a man with a hypodermic while he's sleeping," he said.

"I did what I had to do to escape," she countered. "You of all people should understand that.

You've had a bit of experience doing it yourself."

He didn't reply, instead pinning her with a dark, steady look that made her want to drop her eyes.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. She wasn't ashamed of what she'd done.

"Why did you do it?" he asked finally. "I thought you were happy with me. You told me you loved me. Was all that a lie to get me to let down my guard?"

She stood and paced across then room, filled with sudden anger. She forced herself to take several deep breaths, trying to regain her calm before replying to him.

"You are such an ass," she finally said, her voice controlled and tight with suppressed emotion. "I am pregnant. We are going to have a child. Do you understand what that means?"

"It means we're going to have a child," he said, voice smooth. "I thought you were happy about that.

You certainly seemed happy enough when you first told me about it."

"I am happy about it," she said, shaking her head in disgust. "As far as I'm concerned it's a miracle. I never thought I would be lucky enough to have a child. But you don't seen to be prepared to give us a fresh start. I don't want to go through this pregnancy as your prisoner. I don't want to go through this traipsing around looking for some old Pilgrim woman who hurt you and your sister. You have to let this go; we have a life to build together. It isn't just about us any more. It's about the baby. He or she deserves more than this! Can't you understand that?"

He stayed quiet for a moment, then spoke.

"Jenner would be dead by now if you hadn't run away," he said. "This would all be a moot point."

"Jenner is not the problem," she said coldly, infusing every bit of the anger and hurt she'd felt into her voice. "You are. You won't let me off the ship. You don't even tell me what world we're on half the time.

You have this quest that obsesses you, and it takes up all your time and energy. That is my problem. I don't care about Jenner. Don't you realize that even if you do kill her, Calla will still be dead?"

He stood, arms folded in front of him. She let her eyes feast on his beloved form, pleading with him silently to understand, to take her into his arms and tell her that he was ready to move on with his life.

That they could be a family.

Instead, he turned away and strode out the door. As he left, he spoke.

"Get yourself strapped in," he said. "We're leaving."

"Where are we going?" she asked, terrified of the answer.

"To Karos."

She shuddered and collapsed into a chair. They'd come so far, and now they were heading right back into a nest of Pilgrims. The nest of Pilgrims.

Jess was going to get all of them killed before he was finished

* * *

The truce between them was ugly.

Unlike before, she was no longer willing to pretend that everything might turn out all right, to tell herself that once he found Jenner, it would be over. They had arrived at Karos, the very planet where the Celestial Pilgrim had been born and first started sharing his message more than a thousand years earlier.

The worst possible place she could imagine for her child to be born.

They had traveled a long way to get here, out of Saurellian space and half way across the Empire.

All based on a rumor that Jenner had been headed this way. How many more rumors would there be?

Even if this were their last stop, would it be because Jenner was dead, or because they'd been caught?

She had no illusions that the Pilgrims of Karos would show them any mercy.

A wall of ice now stood between them. They still slept together at night, still had sex. Intellectually they were in such different places that they couldn't communicate, but at night their bodies spoke for them in a dance of love and frustrated concern. Sometimes he fell asleep with his hand placed wide over her belly, as if trying to send some kind of message to the tiny baby growing inside. Would that baby live to meet its father?

Now they were in orbit above Karos, and he was ready to put his carefully crafted plan into action.

He would claim to be a messenger from the mining belt, a merchant who had once done business with Jenner. He was passing through on business and was bringing her some money he owed her. It was a plausible enough scheme, according to Jess. He knew the man in question, knew that Jenner had often invested in his trading expeditions. Jess insisted that the man was honorable enough to pay her if given the opportunity, so he doubted that Jenner would suspect anything.

She wanted to scream at him, to force him to give up this foolishness. It was hopeless. Instead, she sat on the couch and watched as he sent a message to the surface from the vid terminal. With any luck, the promise of money would get Jenner's attention. Then he turned to her, his face softening.

"Bethany, I know you have trouble accepting this, but this will be over soon."

She shook her head, unwilling to go through the same argument again. He sighed, then ran a hand through his hair. They both knew what would happen next. He would wait for Jenner's response, then track her down on the planet's surface. While he was risking his life in search of vengeance, Bethany would be forced to wait for him on the ship. Caged. Of course, it was probably comfortable enough in there, and she knew that he had programmed the ship's computer to release her if he didn't come back for some reason.

That certainly didn't make it any more tolerable, though.

She would sit there, confined like an animal, waiting for him. Every moment would be an eternity.

Would he return? Once he walked through the door another question would arise. Would he have found Jenner? Would their quest finally be over?

She wasn't even sure they'd be free if he did find Jenner. Sometimes it seemed like a part of him was broken; she wondered if he he'd somehow convinced himself that he needed to follow Calla to the grave.

He seemed to think that everything would be all right if he could just find Jenner, but she wasn't that naive. Even if he found her, if he killed her with his bare hands, it still wouldn't bring back his sister. What would he do when he realized that?

He came over and sat down next to her, pulling her over into his lap. She went willingly. Even after spending months with him, the smell of his body, the touch of his skin against hers was enough to make her weak with desire.

She reached up with one hand, allowing her fingers to comb through his hair. The soft strands slid between her fingers, a sensual trailing that stimulated nerves she didn't even know existed. She had never realized how erogenous that small bit of webbing right at the base of her fingers could be…

"Bethany, I don't want to fight with you any more," Jess said, pulled her head against his chest. He tilted his head down, kissing the top of her head tenderly. She crumbled.

"I don't want to fight either," she said. "I just want to be with you. Safe, where we don't have to worry all the time."

"You don't have to worry now," he said. "I'm going to take care of you."

There was no point in talking to him, she thought. He simply didn't understand how vulnerable he was—all three of them were—as long as he continued along this path. So instead of replying, she snuggled up to him, not wanting what might be her last memory of him to be unhappy. As usual, his body reacted to hers. She could feel a distinctive bulge growing along her hip. Things might be a little easier, she thought wryly if his body didn't call to hers like it did. Even when she was angry with him she still craved his touch.

She twisted and turned around, straddling him on the small couch. Her head was on a level with his; she leaned over and kissed him.

She meant it to be a soft kiss, a gentle touching to bring them together slowly. But when her lips came into contact with his mouth, all she could think about was how soon he would leaving her and whether he would return. Pilgrims didn't take kindly to spies.

The need and longing she felt washed over her; she took action. Without pausing to think, she grabbed his head with both hands and crushed his mouth between them, taking his lips roughly, almost angrily. He was hers, dammit, and he didn't even seem to realize it. She needed to show him, she thought suddenly. She needed to mark herself on his body, his spirit, the same way he had marked her. She wasn't his passive vessel. She was his lover, his partner, and he needed to acknowledge that.

The force of her anger surprised her, as did the force of her arousal. She wanted to suck him into her body, squeeze him and take him as he had taken her so many times. When he was down on that planet looking for Jenner he would be remembering Bethany. He responded in kind, his lips fighting with hers for domination. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his body so tightly it was hard to breathe. She pulled her head back, unwilling to give up control. His lips chased hers and she nipped him with her teeth. She bit again, harder this time, and he squawked in surprise and outrage.

"Why did you do that?" he asked. She smiled at him, baring her teeth, then licked her lips deliberately.

"You think you're the one in control here," she said. "But you aren't, Jess. This partnership goes both ways. In bed and out of it."

He shook his head and opened his mouth to speak. Her mouth covered his again, tugging and sucking until he moaned his surrender. It was like pouring rocket fuel on coals; she wanted him more than she'd ever anything before in her life. Her nipples were hard, twin points of fire between their bodies, and the feeling of his cock pushing up at her urgently was almost more than she could take.

Reaching down between their bodies, she pushed up the loose skirt she wore and pulled at her undergarment. The damn thing wouldn't slide down her hips with her legs splayed, she realized. She was going to have to get up.

His hand fumbled against hers as he ripped open his pants, then his erection bobbed up between them. She rubbed against it sensuously, the sweet torture of the fabric between them more pain than pleasure.

She lifted herself to pull off the wretched garment that separated them, but his hands found her waist beneath the skirt and held her. They came around the front of her undergarment, and she felt a tug. A ripping sound filled the air, and she was free.

Immediately she slid down, taking him into her body to the hilt. He filled her so much that she shrieked in shock. She was ready for him, but it still came as a surprise to take him so quickly. Delicate membranes stretched, every breath brought new tensions and pressures from within. She moved tentatively and was rewarded by his groan. This was affecting him every bit as much as it was affecting her, she thought with satisfaction. He was hers for the taking.

She opened her eyes to find him staring at her. Everything was suddenly surreal. Here she sat, impaled upon a man she hadn't even known six months before. She was pregnant; he would soon be in danger. Her entire world had changed. Suddenly she felt like crying. It was all so much to deal with, more than she had ever dreamed possible. The sexual drive to possess him, the need to take his body and make it hers that had filled her mere moments earlier, was gone. In its place was a desire for comfort, for the tenderness and understanding she knew he was capable of giving with his body. She let herself fall forward against him, wrapping both arms around his neck and squeezing him tightly from within.

"Jess, please don't leave me," she whispered in his ear. "Please don't make me and the baby wait for you, wondering if you're still alive."

To her shame, she felt tears welling up. She hated crying; hated showing weakness. She had learned early on that to cry was to give your opponent an edge, something her father and her husband had never failed to take advantage of.

Jess was different, though. She felt him stiffen as her mood changed, then his arms wrapped around her and held her close. He seemed unsure of what to do next, but he was trying to comfort her. The simple fact that he cared enough to try made her cry even harder. She was sobbing now, and with every convulsion of tears she squeezed him within. His body was tense beneath hers but she didn't care. All she wanted to do was let out the hurt; the grief over everything that had happened, and the fear she felt whenever she thought of him leaving her to hunt Jenner one more time.

They stayed that was for a long time. Finally her tears slowed, and she realized that he was murmuring quietly to her. It was a soothing noise, as if he were comforting a child. She lifted her head, looking at him through tear-blurred eyes, and snuffled.

"I guess this wasn't really what I had in mind when I jumped you," she said wryly, feeling herself flush. He smiled at her with so much tenderness, her heart clenched.

"Well, I'm good for more than just sex," he replied. He reached up to grasp a strand of her hair, smoothing it back behind one of her ears. "Although the timing could have been better," he added, grimacing and shifting slightly. With a start she realized he was still embedded deep within her. Her eyes widened, and she blushed.

"Sorry, I forgot what we were doing before," she said. He laughed.

"Bethany, sweetheart, that's not the kind of thing a man likes to hear from his woman," he replied lightly. She blushed harder, and shook her head.

"Thank you for understanding," she whispered, and laid her head back down against his shoulder.

He laughed again, and this time she could hear the deep, rich chuckle course through his body. She squeezed him experimentally with her pelvic muscles. His laugh stopped abruptly, and his hips thrust up at her. She responded in kind, wiggling herself on his engorged flesh. The breath came out of his body in a startled whoomph; he grabbed her and abruptly twisted. Seconds later her body was under his, lying flat on the couch. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He started thrusting in and out of her with all the energy that had gripped them earlier. She grunted, pulling him into her, wishing there were some way she could keep him there. Why couldn't they just stay like this? Why did he have to go to the surface? He thrust into her again, this time rubbing against her clit.

She shuddered, and other thoughts disappeared. How did he manage to do this to her time after time?

Every stroke brought her a little bit closer to satisfaction. She could smell him, see his strong muscles flexing with each thrust. His entire body was tense and tight; beads of sweat built up on his forehead. She closed her eyes, focusing all her attention inward. The tension was almost unbearable—as if she were filled with a thousand tiny strings, each pulled tight and centered where he pushed inexorably into her.

Each thrust brought him deeper; every motion wound the strings tighter. She was going crazy.

Then it hit Bethany, the most powerful orgasm she'd ever had. It ripped through her body, sending her into convulsions as her nails dug into his shoulders. He shuddered, then groaned as he came with her.

Through the explosion of sensation she could feel his hot seed spurting into her. Again and again his hips bucked against her, until finally he collapsed. They lay there panting for several minutes before a chime caught their attention.

"It's a message from the surface," he said, rolling off her. Still naked, he strode across the room to the vid terminal, pressing a button. She watched in silence as he scrolled through the message. Then he spoke.

"It's Jenner," he said. "She's on the surface, and she wants her money."

Chapter Sixteen

Karos, Home of the Celestial Pilgrim

Here she was, stuck sitting in a cage on a ship on Karos, Bethany thought in disgust. The father of her child was responsible for putting her in that cage, and now he was heading out to kill a woman. There was a good chance she'd never see him again; a good chance that before long Pilgrim guards would come looking for her. And when they found her she would be an easy target. He insisted that wasn't going to happen. Of course, he insisted a lot of things, she thought uneasily. She'd believe they were safe when she saw it, and not one moment earlier.

It wasn't fair, she thought, settling down into the chair he'd thoughtfully placed in the cage. All she got to do was sit and wait, while someone else determined her fate. Again.

She reached down to her stomach, laying both hands flat across it. She was still amazed that there was actually a tiny being growing in there. It seemed so unreal to her, even though her body had already started to change in many ways. Her stomach was still almost flat, but there was a difference. It was as if the muscles had relaxed, making way for the new life to come. Her breasts had gotten larger, too. They had been sore at first, but she was getting used to the feeling. Any time now she might start to feel the baby moving.

She murmured softly, rubbing her stomach and thinking of the child. Was it a little boy? Jess seemed to think so. She would prefer a girl, though. A daughter who would grown up strong and proud. A little girl who would choose her own destiny. A young woman who might never marry at all; instead she might become a teacher, or a doctor. Like Bragan.

A sudden chill ran through her, and she whispered the dead man's name. Would Jess still be alive in the morning? If he was, would he still be whole? What if he found Jenner and killed her… Would vengeance give him the satisfaction he was looking for? Or would it leave him empty.

Would he still be the same man when he came back?

Visions of his dead and mangled body filled her mind. Without thinking, she slid out of the chair and knelt on the floor. She closed her eyes and clenched her hands tightly together, silently calling on the Goddess to watch over him and bring him back to her. At first it seemed to help, but then a small voice whispered in her mind's ear. Why would the Goddess care about one man's fate, especially a man bent on vengeance? Was she even listening?

She whispered another prayer. To her disgust, tears of desperation welled up out of her eyes and started running down her face. She wiped them away with one hand and opened her heart to the Goddess once more.

The Goddess was silent.

* * *

Jess sat in the darkness, idly cleaning his fingernails with a long, wicked blade. It had taken him so long to find Jenner that he could hardly believe he'd gotten to her so easily. She'd replied to his message, going so far as to invite him to the hostel where she was staying. Now she was his. She would be coming up to her room soon, and when she did, she would see the face of justice. His face.

Calla was dead.

Hari’s words had played through his mind a thousand times since that night on Discovery Station.

Calla's implant had been found in the station’s recycling pit, her body disposed of like so much trash. He should have been able to take care of her. He would have, too, if that bitch hadn't deliberately sold him into slavery in the mining belt. She'd wanted him dead, but she hadn't been willing to simply throw away her investment. No, she'd sold him into what she thought was certain death. She'd tried to kill him, and she'd succeeded in killing his sister.

Now it was time for Jenner to die.

He could hear the stairs outside creak as she heaved her massive form up to her room. It wasn’t as nice as her apartment on Discovery Station, but she was lucky to have made it to Karos at all. Of course, her luck was about to change, he thought with grim humor. She’d survived the Saurellians' manhunt for Pilgrims, but she wouldn’t survive him.

The door opened, and the light from the hallway outlined her form. She sighed heavily, then turned to switch on the light and close the door. His blaster was already raised by the time she caught sight of him.

“Hello, Mistress Jenner,” he said tightly, savoring the moment. “I think you should sit down on the bed.”

Jenner did as she was told, her snake’s eyes wide with fright.

“I’d like to draw this out,” Jess said, feeling almost playful now that he finally had her in his grasp.

“I’ve dreamed about this day for years, you know. All those nights you made me come to you when I was younger? You’re going to pay for them now.”

Jenner gave a little moan of fear, and he almost felt pity for her. Almost. Then he thought about Calla’s lifeless corpse and the pity disappeared.

“Unfortunately,” he continued. “I have other business. We’ll make this quick.”

He tossed her a bottle of pills, a lethal concoction specially prepared by the ship's auto-doc. They would kill her, but the medicine itself was common enough. It certainly wouldn't raise eyebrows if anyone examined it.

“I’ve already written a little note goodbye for all your friends,” he said thoughtfully. “About how you’re so filled with guilt you can’t bear to live any longer. I’m prepared to give you a choice. Either take the pills, or I’ll use the knife.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jenner whispered, but she was wrong and she knew it. He could see it in her eyes.

“Oh, I would enjoy it,” he murmured with dark satisfaction. “Which way do you want to go?”

“I’ll take the pills,” she said finally. “I suppose you want to watch?”

“I’ve seen you stuff your face a million times while those around you were hungry,” he replied coldly.

“This time I plan to enjoy the sight."

He stood over her with the blaster as she took the pills, watching carefully to make sure that she swallowed all of them. There was enough in the bottle to kill her ten times over, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

After an hour, he rose to check her pulse. Nothing. Jenner was dead. He waited for the triumph to wash over him, but her death left him feeling hollow. Everything left him feeling hollow, he thought, feeling suddenly exhausted. Everything except for Bethany. She was all he had left.

He went over to the window and opened it silently before crawling out on to the roof. Karos was surprisingly backward, and security was poor. Hardly what he would have suspected from a planet that was home to the Celestial Pilgrim. The man must not have been quite as "celestial" as the Pilgrims liked to believe, he thought. It had been ridiculously easy to break in to the hostel and find Jenner. Escaping was just as easy. Within seconds he had blended into the darkness of the streets.

His ship was parked at the edge of the primitive landing field; the small town where Jenner had taken refuge was too insignificant to have a true space port; he hadn't even had to register a flight path with the planetary controllers. Checking carefully to make sure no one had followed him, he palmed the airlock open and stepped in. It took all of two seconds to reach the door that opened on to the living area.

His eyes flew to her cell in the corner. Bethany was sitting on her chair, watching him with a shadowed face.

He walked across the small room, pulling out the key to open her cage. She stood with dignity, watching his movements.

“Is it done, then?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said tightly. He didn’t want to discuss Jenner with her.

“And did it make you feel good to kill her?” she asked in a mocking tone. “Is Calla alive again?

Have you stopped being a runaway slave?”

Jess glared at her.

“Please,” he said, running a hand through his dark, curly hair. “Please don’t. I just need to hold you tonight. Will you let me?”

She stared at him, as if trying to judge his sincerity. The look on his face must have convinced her, because she dropped her militant stance and came over to him. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body against his. It was like coming home, and Jess felt himself harden in response. She was the only person who could make him feel anymore.

“Let’s go to bed,” she whispered. “We’re both tired. We’ll think of what to do tomorrow. Tonight let’s just be together.”

“All right,” he said, dropping a kiss on her head. Then she stepped away from him and held out her hand. Taking it, he let her lead him into the bedroom.

* * *

Bethany lay back in the bed, one arm thrown over her eyes. She was filled with the sweet, almost liquid lassitude that came after a night of making love. Jess had been fierce with her last night; almost as if he believed that if he only touched her in enough ways, it would make the events of the previous months disappear. She knew better, though. Nothing was going to make his memories go away. Only time could heal his pain.

He'd been like a lost child when he'd returned to the ship. At first she'd felt a sense of relief so profound that she'd wanted to cry. She had been so certain they'd catch him. She'd been told stories of Karos her entire life. It was supposed to be a glorious planet, millions of people united in the dreams and idea of the Celestial Pilgrim, all working together to complete his masterful plan.

Instead, it was a backward, rural place filled with subsistence farmers. There was only one real space port on the whole planet, located near the central temple. The thousands of Pilgrim guardsmen she'd expected didn't exist. Jess hadn't encountered anyone who even seemed to question his presence, let alone cadres of religious zealots.

Karos was just a pathetic, sad little place filled with pathetic and sad people.

After their first, frantic love-making session, he'd left her just long enough to lift the ship into orbit.

Then he was back at her side, sliding into the bed and taking her into his arms. He'd been slow that time, exploring every spot and crevice on her body, slowly stroking her with his lips and hands until she'd cried out, begging for relief. He'd stop, then, right as she was on the peak of ecstasy, only to start again. Finally he'd taken her, pushing them both to a level of they'd never felt before. Her throat was still sore from the cries she'd given. They'd both slipped into sleep, exhausted physically and emotionally.

Now as she lay in bed, she wondered what she would say to him when she got up. Jenner was dead; the quest was over. This was the time where they were supposed to take their child and find some place to settle in peace. But vengeance hadn't given him the peace he'd sought.

Last night he'd screamed in his sleep, alternately calling out for Calla and swearing imprecations against Jenner. When she'd tried to wake him, he'd turned on her, pinning her to the mattress. She'd called out his name and he woke up, confused and horrified at his actions. Then he left her and went to sleep on the couch. She missed his warmth immediately, the comfort of his touch and the sound of his breath. But a small part of her had also been relieved. The hate in his eyes as he'd pinned her down was terrifying. How could a man with such hate in his heart become a father?

A sound at the door caught her attention, and she shifted her arm. He was there, watching her. His face was grim, his eyes dull.

"You need to get up," he said quietly. "We have to talk."

She nodded her head and crawled out of the bed. He watched, seemingly unaffected by her nudity, as she pulled a robe on and moved toward him. He stepped aside as she approached the door, gesturing toward the couch in the living area. Feeling heavy, she sat down. He pulled a chair up before her, turning it backward and straddling it.

"We have to decide what we're going to do now," he said quietly. "You and the baby need a place to live."

"What about you?" she asked. "Don't you need a place to live, too?"

"Yes," he said dispassionately. "I've done some research, and found about four different places that might work out. I've printed out descriptions for you to look over. One of them is the planet Logan is from. He told me that I would have a place with him, if he was successful in his return."

"Do you have any idea if he was successful?" she asked.

Jess shook his head, then replied. "No, but Logan said he'd leave word for me at Dalaron Station if he had a place for us. It's located just inside Saurellian space, a way-station for anyone traveling through the Federation. We'll know for sure before have to make our final decision," he replied. "It sounds like a good enough place. Mid-sized and well-established without being over-populated. If we don't like it we can always move on."

"How far is it?"

"It's a long way," he replied. "It's in the Saurellian Federation proper, not just under their control. It's actually on the far side of Saurellian space."

"I can see some real advantages in that," she said slowly. "You don't have to worry about being caught by the Imperials, and I doubt there are any Pilgrims there."

"No Pilgrims," he said, his eyes showing life for the first time. "It's probably a good, safe place."

"Then it sounds good to me," she replied, leaning forward. He remained silent as she cupped both hands around his face and kissed him. It was a slow, soft kiss, almost chaste. She wanted to show him how much she loved him, how much she and the baby needed him in this lives. He didn't respond, although his eyes were filled with an almost infinite sadness as she pulled away. What was going through his head?

He stood, and reached down with one hand to help her up.

"I'll go plot the course," he said. "We should be ready to start accelerating for our leap into hyperspace in an hour or so."

With that, he turned from her and walked out of the room. She sighed, and some of his sadness washed over her. She shook off the emotion deliberately.

Somehow she had to find a way to connect with him again, she told herself. He was living in the past, filled with regrets. It wasn't going to work like this. Her child deserved a father, not a ghost.

Chapter Seventeen

No matter what she did, Bethany simply couldn't get through to him. He was kind to her, and very considerate of her physical needs, but there was always something missing when he looked at her. There was no sparkle in him, only sorrow. Not that he would dream of discussing his pain with her. No. Jess was too strong for that. Or at least he was pretending to be.

They were approaching Dalaron Station. As soon as they arrived, she would finally know where her future lay. If Jess had a message from Logan then they already had a home waiting for them. If not, there were several other planets which seemed to hold promise as possible destinations. Either way, they would be making a decision about where to go soon. It couldn't come fast enough for her. It had taken nearly three weeks to travel the distance from Karos, deep within Imperial territory, to Dalaron Station.

Every day the baby moved within her. Her stomach formed a gentle mound, and every instinct within her cried out for the stability of a home.

Now they approached the station, Jess carefully maneuvering the ship into the docking area. She sat beside him in the cockpit, watching his fingers fly across the controls. It was still amazing to her how much he had managed to teach himself about flying. The computer helped him, of course, providing him with simulated runs and technical manuals. He'd had thousands of hours to practice while they were traveling. She'd been doing a bit of studying of her own, and had discovered that he was very close to being qualified for a pilot's license. No matter where they decided to go, he would never have trouble finding work. Pilots were always needed, even more now that the Empire and the Saurellian Federation had called a truce. Interstellar commerce was starting to flow again, after years of war.

They entered the docking cradle with a gentle nudge, and then her stomach gave several flip flops as Jess turned off the ship's artificial gravity, tapping into the station's generators instead. It only took a brief second for the station's gravity to kick in, but it seemed like an eternity to her. Against her will, she leaned over and vomited suddenly into the sturdy plastic bag she'd taken to carrying with her everywhere. Her morning sickness had started to settle down several weeks ago, but the shift in gravity was just too much for her.

Jess was by her side instantly, pulling her hair back and supporting her head as her breakfast came back up. He made soothing noises, and she could feel tears building up in her eyes. She loved their baby fiercely, but she hated this feeling of helplessness that came over her whenever she was sick. She didn't like the fact that she wasn't in control of her own body, either physically or emotionally.

She gasped for air, slowly regaining her composure as the heaves faded. Jess eased the sack from her grasp, then handed her a small square of fabric to wipe her mouth with. He'd taken to carrying them with him at all times since she'd started getting sick. Just one more tiny thing he did to make her life easier.

She'd trade all of those little things if he would just talk to her, though. She knew he loved her; it showed in his actions. Why couldn't he trust her with his feelings?

He sat back on the floor of the cockpit, pulling her into his lap and cuddling her.

"Feeling better?" he asked after a while.

"Yes," she managed to whisper.

"I was going to offer to take you out for dinner on the station," he said after a brief pause. "I guess that might not be such a good idea, under the circumstances."

She managed to give a faint laugh, then shook her head.

"Let's not give up just yet," she said, trying to find some humor in the situation. "Who knows how I'll feel in a few hours? These things come and go, you know."

He chuckled in response, but she could tell his heart wasn't in it. She looked up into his face; his eyes were distant. He was once again focused on his own thoughts. Unable to control herself, she spoke.

"What are you thinking, Jess?"

"Nothing," he responded slowly. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the bulkhead. She rolled her eyes, disgusted.

"You're obviously thinking something," she said, trying to keep herself from sounding too upset.

"What is it? Are you worried about whether Logan has sent you a message?"

His voice was distant when he replied.

"It doesn't matter if Logan has sent for us or not," he said. "Either way, we'll find a good place for the baby. There's plenty of money. Everything is going to be just fine."

It was the same kind of platitude he'd been giving her for weeks, she thought, anger mounting.

"I'm not a child, you know," she said sharply. "I think we should discuss these things. I don't need you to take care of me."

"Oh really?" he asked, nodding toward the pan of vomit. "It sure seems like you need me to take care of you."

She pulled away from him, rising to her knees to confront him.

"I don't need anyone to take care of me," she said in a firm voice. "I accept your help while I'm sick because it makes my life easier. If a person has a partner, they can share some of the responsibilities. But choosing to have a partner and needing a caretaker are two very different things, Jess. Don't make any mistakes about that. I can handle myself."

"You don't know anything about the world out there," he replied, his voice tight. "You wouldn't last a day without me, and you know it."

"That's ridiculous," she snapped back. "I did manage to get all the way Vlaxon by myself. And if you hadn't come after me, I would have found a job and supported myself."

"Is that right?" he asked, almost sneering at her.

"Yes, it is right," she replied. "I'm not the same ignorant woman you kidnapped off the asteroid, Jess.

I've seen more ports that most people do in a lifetime by now, and I've had plenty of time to study while you've been preoccupied with your stupid little hunt for Jenner. I've been keeping my eyes open, learning things. I may not have much experience, but I am not stupid. I'm ready to take care of myself."

The passion of her outburst was a little startling, even to Bethany, and she took a deep breath after she stopped talking. Her words seemed to have an impact on him. He'd certainly shut up. He looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face, then he abruptly pushed himself to his feet.

"You've made your point," he said, not reaching down to help her up as he usually would. "You don't need me. You are a strong woman and you're more than capable of caring for yourself. I understand and respect that."

Her jaw dropped as he left the room. Nothing he could have said would have surprised her more.

Jess had never treated her like an equal, someone who could care for herself.

She heaved herself awkwardly to her feet and followed him down the corridor to the living area.

What the hell was going on in his mind now?

* * *

Jess sat down in front of the public data terminal. Bethany was back on the ship, sleeping. She hadn't gotten sick again, but he'd still decided it would be better if he caught a shuttle to the main port by himself. He needed to find out if Logan had contacted him. He was just paranoid enough that he didn't want to use the ship's communication equipment to check. If something had gone wrong, if someone were looking for him, he didn't want to lead them back to Bethany.

So there he sat, hands flitting across the interface, trying to remember the code words Logan had given him.

I'll set up a mailbox for you at Dalaron Station, his bunkmate had told him before they'd left the asteroid belt. Your keyword will be Calla, after your sister. I'll leave the message in the name of

"Jess Freedman". If you don't hear anything from me by the time three months have passed, then don't expect anything.

Jess had wondered many times what had happened to Logan. Now that he was poised to find out, he found himself strangely reluctant to check for the message. The bulk of survivors from the Pilgrim mining asteroid, women, children, and escaped slaves, had all gone with Logan. Were all those people dead now? Had things gone terribly wrong for them? Or were they living new lives now?

Bethany had a friend with them, a woman named Moriah. She would probably want Moriah there when the baby was born. In fact, if she had Moriah, she probably wouldn't need him.

That was the real problem, he admitted to himself. Part of him was actually hoping things hadn't worked out for Logan. If they didn't have a place waiting for them with him, then Bethany would still need Jess to take care of her. Or at least he hoped she would. After her outburst on the ship he wasn't so sure anymore.

For so long he had thought of her as being dependent on him. He liked her dependency. It meant that she couldn't leave him, not as long as she needed him to take care of her. When she'd tried to leave him before, it had been like a knife stabbing though his heart. The kind of pain he'd felt when he'd realized Calla was gone…

Once upon a time he'd had Calla in his life. He had taken care of her, they had always been together. He knew his purpose in life. Then he failed Calla and she died. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't fail Bethany. He would keep her safe and provide for her. But now that he was in the position to do so, she didn't need him.

She could go to Logan, to Moriah, and she would be safe and happy. She wouldn't need him at all.

He shook his head, forcing the thoughts away. He didn't like acknowledging that a part of him actually hoped Logan hadn't left a message because the implications were impossible to consider. It was better to simply check for the message and get it over with.

He touched the keys and the terminal flickered to life. Within seconds he navigated through the main station menu to the traveler’s bulletin board. He typed in his query, and then a message icon appeared before him. Holding his breath, he typed in the keyword, and the message opened.

* * *

Bethany woke as Jess slipped under the covers. She gave a sleepy whimper, protesting the cold air he brought with him. His arms came around her, and then he was rolling her to her back. His hand came down to touch her stomach, fingers dancing lightly across the skin.

His head dropped down, lips whispered against the mound of flesh. What was he doing?

He was talking to the baby, she realized. She lay still, not wanting to do anything to disturb him. It was the first time he'd displayed any real interest in the child within her. Against her will, moisture built up in her eyes. He really did care…

He stayed that way for several minutes, whispering and rubbing her stomach. Then he moved back up the length of her body. He kissed her mouth gently and pulled her body against his. She started to speak, to tell him how much it meant that he wanted to communicate with their child. He cut her off, lifting one finger and pressing it against her lips.

"Shhhhhhhh…"

His mouth grazed her chin, smoothing kisses along her jaw and cheek. He kissed her eyelids, her forehead, her ears—each touch soft and light as a whisper of silken fabric. A shiver of sensation wafted through her. How she loved his touch!

His body was warm and naked against hers beneath the covers, bare flesh pressed to bare flesh.

There was a special kind of heat to him, one that called her body in a way that no other source of warmth ever could. She stretched, enjoying the slide of her skin against his. Every hair on his legs, the calluses on his fingers, told the story of their time together. She could remember the first time she'd touched him like this; the excitement she'd felt when she'd seen his body on the floor in the mining complex.

Everything about him was precious to her.

She shifted, rolling into his body and raising one knee to hook his leg with hers. His thigh slipped between hers, and she could feel the rise of his erection against her side.

She ran one hand down his back, feeling the taught muscles of his shoulders as they tapered down to his lean hips. His butt was tight and firm in her grasp. She could feel his strength everywhere she touched him. She trailed her hand back up again, raking him lightly with her nails, reveling in the power she held over him. With that one gesture he stilled, every nerve strung tight in anticipation of her next move.

She froze for several heartbeats, stopping time for a moment. Then she pushed him back, pressing him to one side. He followed her unspoken directions, rolling on to his back.

He laid back his head, closing his eyes.

It seemed a signal of submission to her, as if he were giving himself to her this time. He put his faith in her, his pleasure in her hands. He trusted her.

She took a deep breath, then sat up beside him. She reached out with both hands, gripping each of his shoulders with firm fingers. She squeezed, hoping to ease some of his tension by massaging him.

Letting go in any way was a big step for him and she would do whatever she could to make it easier.

After several minutes of working his shoulders she allowed herself to move lower. Each of his nipples stood taught as she rubbed the strong, smooth muscles beneath them. Squeeze and release.

Squeeze and release. The rhythm mirrored another rhythm, that of their bodies moving together in sex.

She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax into the comfort of the motion. How many times had they moved together like this? Sometimes it was passion, sometimes comfort. At least once in grief.

Now she tried to infuse each touch with the love and need she felt for him, the unity that had come between them in the conception of this child. They were bound together with ties that could never be broken, ties that made them stronger and better. They were more than the sum of their parts.

His flesh grew warm beneath her hands and she felt some of his tension draining away. He looked less tense, too. He had draped one arm up and over his head, his breathing was slow and steady. Even his erection looked less urgent. He was still hard, but without the tightness that she associated with his greatness need. He was content in the moment.

She moved her hands lower, rubbing his upper stomach.

A new tension was building in him now. His muscles were tightening back up. He threw one arm over his eyes, and allowed other hand to grip the sheet. She continued her slow, steady motions and the skin of his fingers grew white with tension. His stomach muscles hardened with every touch, then he gasped.

"I can't take too much more of this."

She laughed, bracing her hands against his chest and swinging one leg over him.

"I'll be the judge of how much you take," she said lightly. He grunted.

She positioned herself so that the head of his erect penis just brushed her opening. Then she lowered herself just a bit, teasing him with her touch. He shuddered and tried to thrust up at her. She pulled away.

"None of that."

He nodded beneath his arm, lips tightening. Bethany paused, waiting for him to settle down.

She lowered herself over him again, once more teasing his most sensitive spot. He shivered, but this time managed to keep still. Encouraged, she pushed down slightly.

She could feel the wide head pushing into her, and for one moment she nearly sat straight down on him. It would be so easy, so fulfilling to simply swallow him with her body. She knew that if she did, his hands would come up around her hips, guiding her movements. They had done this what seemed like a thousand times—he always ended up in control, bringing her to pleasure. She had insisted earlier today that they be partners; this was her chance to express that partnership. His needs would come first. She couldn't just let him take over and do the work for her.

So she gritted her teeth, lowering herself once more. She could feel him slowly sliding up into her body. His length pushed her open, inch by agonizing inch. She paused again, forcing herself to stay controlled. Breathe, she reminded herself. Remember to breathe.

She started moving a third time, sinking down over him until the pressure from within was almost painful. He was so large, filled her so completely, that she wondered for an instant if she'd be able to take him. But just when she thought it was too much she hit bottom. She sat across his hips, his length fully embedded within him. She paused, allowing herself to adjust to the tight fit.

She opened her eyes, unable to remember closing them. She was startled to see her own fingers braced against his chest, clutching him so tightly that her nails were white. She forced herself to release them, one finger at time, and was shocked to see the tiny, half-moon shaped marks that were left there.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He grunted, and lifted the arm away from his face. His eyes met hers, steady and serious, then he spoke.

"It felt good."

She giggled, made suddenly nervous by the intensity of his gaze. He was so big, so much stronger than her. He could pick her up and break her without even thinking about it, yet he lay before her submissively. Every muscle in his body was tight with tension, ready to take her and make her his.

Instead, he was giving her a choice. He wasn't allowing his instincts to control the situation.

He really was willing to trust her.

She closed her eyes and flexed her fingers against his chest. Then she deliberately squeezed him from within. He grunted, quivering with need.

"Please…"

She pushed herself up, then plunged back down over him. His cock rasped against her, filling her with chills that were almost more than she could handle. How could one man give her so much pleasure?

Everything about him—his smell, his skin, the sound of his breathing—aroused her. She pulled back and plunged down over him yet again.

Taking him into her body was much easier this time. He still felt big, but her fluids eased his way.

Braced against his chest, she pumped again. This time his hips pushed up at her involuntarily, as if he could no longer keep himself from joining in the dance they had started between them.

Earlier she had wanted full control, but now she no longer cared how they came together. It was enough that they did, that their bodies smacked against each other with every stroke. Perspiration broke out across her skin, and she opened her eyes to look at him. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, too. It seemed to bind them closer together, her wet flesh sliding across his with every stroke. Her entire body was filled with tension, and every time her clit slid down his length it grew stronger. Her heart pounded, her breath grew ragged. Moving was becoming harder. She desperately wanted to go faster, harder, but coordinating her thrusts with him was difficult. Then her hand slid off his sweat-slicked chest, and she collapsed against him. They both stopped moving, each sucking in air in with deep gasps.

"Why don't we change positions?" he said softly. "You've been doing all the work. Why don't you let me take over for a while?"

She laughed, then pushed herself upright..

"Nope, I started this," she said. "I'm going to finish it. Remember, I can take care of myself."

He chuckled too, and she narrowed her eyes in mock anger.

"Tease me?" she asked. "I'll show you what it means to tease."

She squeezed him from within again, taunting him.

"You win," he said in a grating voice. "Stop, you win. I'll just lie back and let you take advantage of me."

She giggled, then moving slowly on him, ground her hips against his in a circle. She kept it up for thirty seconds, but by then it was backfiring on her. With each slow rotation, her clit moved across his pelvic bone with tantalizing force. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate, but it was too much.

She orgasmed suddenly, body stiffening and clutching him fast. Through her own release she heard him shout his. Then his hips spasmed against her and she could feel his seed spurting up within her body.

Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her until she collapsed against his chest, spent.

They lay there in silence, and she listened to his heartbeat slow as he calmed down. He wrapped both arms around her and held her close. She fell asleep, happier than she'd even been in her life.

Finally, she had found her partner.

* * *

Jess held Bethany for several hours. For the first time, he understood how she could have left him on Barengaria. She had done it because she didn't have a choice. She had seen their situation so clearly even though he'd been oblivious. There was a tiny being, a new life growing within her. That child deserved a safe, happy and healthy life. It deserved love; it deserved protection.

Everything he had failed to provide Calla. Bethany wanted those things for their child.

Sure, he had managed to take care of Bethany. But she had made it abundantly clear that she didn't need him. She really was capable of caring for herself. She even had a safe place to go. Logan would provide her with more than Jess could ever hope to give her, he thought despondently. Bethany didn't need him, and he hadn't given her the opportunity to choose to be with him. From the beginning he had forced himself on her, taking what she wasn't willing to give freely and holding her captive when she wanted to go.

He'd put her in a cage. What kind of animal was he?

He couldn't hide the truth from himself any longer. She deserved more than he had to give and she deserved choices in life. He lowered his head, allowing himself to drink in the scent of her hair one last time. He kissed the top of her head and slid out from under the covers. She would be free now.

* * *

Bethany woke up and stretched, enjoying the delicious looseness in her arms and legs. Everything was finally all right.

Jess was already up, nothing unusual in that. He usually woke before her, especially now that she was pregnant. She needed more sleep than she ever had before. Her stomach growled, and she rolled out of bed feeling light and happy. Had Jess eaten yet? She felt like a big breakfast… Maybe they could even go out to eat on the station. At one of those restaurants she liked so much.

There was no sign of Jess out in the main room, so she ambled up toward the cockpit. He spent much of his free time up there, studying the piloting tables. She called his name as she walked down the hallway, not wanting to startle him.

There was no response, and sudden chill hit her. Where was he?

The cockpit was empty, so she jumped when the computer's soft voice spoke.

"Message waiting."

"What?"

"There is a message waiting," the computer repeated. "Would you like to play the message?"

"Yes, play the message," she said slowly. Tension built within her, and a slow burning started in the pit of her stomach. With a whirring noise, a small vid screen rose from the control panel and flickered to life. Jess' beloved face looked down at her. His expression was grim.

"Bethany, I'm sorry to do this without talking to you first," he said slowly. "I didn't want to just disappear on you, but I also wanted to give you the freedom to make a choice for yourself. To be honest, I wasn't sure I could trust myself to do that if I spoke to you face to face."

Suddenly it was hard for her to breathe. She sat back in the pilot's chair heavily, forcing herself to listen as he continued speaking.

"I understand now that you don't need me, that you can take care of yourself. I've never given you a choice to be with me, and I haven't even listened to you when told me how foolish it was to chase Jenner halfway across the sector.

"I realize that you were right about that. Killing her was a waste of time. Calla is still dead, and I'm still a failure. You and the baby deserve more."

She shook her head, wondering how he could be so stupid. He never listened to her, not when she told him he was wrong, and not when she told him she wanted a partner. Why couldn't she communicate with this man?

"I've programmed the ship to take to you Logan," Jess continued. "You'll be there in less than three weeks. He'll be expecting you. I'm staying here on the station. I've got half of our money, and I'm ready to apply for my pilot's license. You don't have to worry about me any more."

His hand in the image reached toward her, almost as if he were trying to touch her through the screen. She reached one arm up toward him, then pulled it back, feeling foolish. He was just reaching out to end the recording…

But instead of flicking off, he pulled his hand back and looked out once more.

"I know it's weak of me to even tell you this, but there's a part of me that isn't ready to give up hope.

If you want to get in touch with me, I've got a room at the Pilot's Hostel in Quadrant Four. I'll be here until I get word that your ship has left."

He reached out again, and this time the image disappeared. The vid screen rolled silently back down into the control panel, leaving Bethany to stare thoughtfully at the space it had occupied.

She stood up and stretched. How could he misunderstand like this? she asked herself again.

Hadn't they been through enough? She sighed and walked slowly back to their room. She needed to take a shower and get dressed. Goddess only knew how long it would take her to find this Pilot's Hostel place…

Chapter Eighteen

Jess sat in the bar, drinking a rich, dark glass of beer. It was good stuff, some of the best he'd ever tasted. Every few moments he would check his message box on the counter-top terminal. He wasn't quite sure what he was expecting. Every time it showed up blank he was filled with both relief and fear.

Relief that the ship hadn't left the station yet; fear because she hadn't tried to contact him.

What was she thinking? When would she be out of his life for good? Would he ever be able to forgive himself for losing her? He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice it when someone slid into the seat next to him.

"Can you please bring me a glass of water?" a familiar voice asked the bartender, and for a moment he thought he was dreaming. He turned to look at her, trying to keep the longing he felt out of his face.

He'd pressured her too much already, the last thing she needed from him was more force. She had to make her own decisions.

"How are you doing?" he asked, doing his best to sound casual. As if his entire life didn't rest on her answer.

"Not too good, Jess," she said softly. She looked at him, those beautiful cat eyes that he'd loved from the first minute he'd seen them gazing deeply into his own face. "I woke up this morning and found myself all alone. Now, instead of eating breakfast I had to come hunt you down. Why are you doing this to us?"

He opened his mouth, then closed. What was he supposed to say?

"I was pretty angry when I first got your message," she said softly. The bartender brought a glass of water over and she took it, murmuring, "Thanks."

He waited as she drank deeply. She put the glass down, the lightly traced the rim with one finger.

"But I realized something," she continued. "Being angry with you wasn't the solution. I love you for who you are, Jess."

His heart froze.

"And I guess that means loving you even when you do things I can't understand."

"What are you saying?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Oh, Jess," she said, turning to him. "I really don't get why you're doing this to yourself. How many times have I told you I love you? How many times have I made it clear I want you for my partner?"

"You've also made it very clear you don't need me," he said, shaking his head.

"Of course I don't need you," she replied. "I'm a grown woman. I'm capable of living without you.

I'm not a child. But that doesn't mean I don't want you, Jess. You're my man, we're a family now. How could I ever be happy without you? I love you."

She leaned forward, kissing him on the mouth. He didn't respond, still trying to process what she was telling him. She really did want to be with him.

She pulled back, sliding off the barstool and standing beside him.

"Let's get back to our ship and get out of this place," she said, holding out one hand to him. He nodded slowly, and took it.

"That sounds like a good idea to me," he replied. "Where are we going? To Logan?"

"We'll see," she said, a strange little grin playing across her face. "I think it's my turn to pick where we go. Some place warm, maybe. And definitely no Pilgrims or slaves."

"Yes m'am," he replied, smiling back at her. "I'm up for anything you want."

"Good," she replied, laughing and shaking her head. "Brace yourself, Jess. I'm in a strange mood, so things could get interesting. Let's see what kind of future we can find for ourselves, hmm?"

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