Lost Colony Ch. 14

"So you'll keep me in your camp just to please you and the other hot huntresses?"

"No," Tracee said, her voice trailing into a soft moan, "the other hunter chicks will have to get their own captives." She was sliding against him freely now, still mostly upright as Sparr continued to stroke and fondle her. "Huntress Rask doesn't feel like sharing."

Sparr didn't feel like sharing either. After more than his share of being passed around like a piece of meat he was ready for a more symmetrical relationship. "This captive happily submits to his hot huntress captor."

Tracee giggled, but didn't stop riding him. Her breath was taking on a ragged edge as pleasure began to chip away at her playful veneer. Sparr allowed delight to swirl around him as well. Being ridden was passive in a way that didn't always suit his appetites, but it did have advantages. When the woman was in control she used him in a way that drove her toward bliss faster than him. Sparr could lay back and watch her journey from enjoyment, to ecstasy, to release without cumming too soon.

"Mmm, I like that," Tracee said as Sparr fondled her, his grip on her flesh ever more insistent. She picked up her pace, brown hair tossing.

"Yeah," Sparr groaned, "it's really good right now."

"Oh yes?" Tracee leaned forward, pressing her body along his. "What do you like about it?"

"Your snug little pussy. So sweet."

"And what else?" Tracee's tongue found his ear, darting wetly against him while her ever more ragged breath caressed his neck.

"Your tongue, fuck." Whatever resistance he had was melting away. "What about you?"

"That fat cock," Tracee whispered, her mouth hovering sweetly against him. "Splitting me in two."

"Fu, huuck!" Sparr gripped Tracee's shoulder with one hand, an upper arm with the other, locking her in place. "Is that the only thing? Just my cock?"

"It's pretty fucking important, isn't it? And your hands on my body, too." She was trembling involuntarily. "Fuck, Alain! That thing, I want to feel you cum, feel you shoot into me."

"Gawwd," Sparr moaned. "Feel it then. Ride me until it happens, until I fill you. We'll cum together."

"Yeah," Tracee gasped. Her rhythm had built until she was slapping against him, using his body to drag them both toward release. "Fill me."

Sparr was ready. His session with Tracee wouldn't involve multiple positions, he wouldn't give her oral, they wouldn't even kiss. She had wanted dick, had taken what she wanted, and was on the brink. "I'm right there," Sparr said, his arms clamping even tighter.

"Yes, oh yes," Tracee panted. She slowed, gyrating on his cock, finding just the right angle. "I'm going to... I'm going... oh, fuck. Alain I'm cumming, oh fuuu..." She tensed against him, pussy clenching sweetly.

"Yeah," Sparr groaned. He held off as long as possible as Tracee used his cock, pressing it against her slick insides. But his resistance was depleted. After what could only have been a few seconds he tumbled into the abyss alongside her. "Oh gawwd, fawwwwk!" Hot cum pumped into Tracee's slit as Sparr gripped her mercilessly tight. "Hunnnh, fucking take it."

"Deep, yes!" Tracee panted. "Your cum." Their orgasms overlapped, Tracee shuddering against him as their ecstasy peaked. Finally she collapsed against him.

Spent, and basking in the post-fuck glow, Sparr stroked Tracee's flanks while his mind wandered through the jumble of memories that were his year on Kaybe. At no previous point in his life had he ever felt so alive, and so close to death. Lovers, friends, and companions had come and gone, as had slavers, assassins, and beasts. Moments of peace and security had been so rare they stood out like stars in the night sky. The extremes of lust and mortal peril had started to feel more the norm. Sparr's mind chewed on the paradox restlessly. Merely surviving on Kaybe had sharpened him, honed him into a different man.

Would that man ever feel whole back on Earth?

***

There was no better place to watch the shuttles as they ferried crew back to the Odysseus.

Sparr, Tracee, and Captain Fowler sat together on a small rise which ran along the edge of the camp not far from the command center. Fowler had arranged for a picnic, and Sparr had brought wine.

"This shit is so much better than the stuff we've been fermenting here!" Tracee said. "Is that why you're staying?" While most of the ship's crew were readying for their return voyage, Sparr had decided to remain on Kaybe to continue his mission.

"The wine, yes," Sparr said. He raised his glass in a mock toast. "Here's to Kaybe wine!"

Tracee happily took a swig from her glass, but Fowler only sipped. "It is good," he admitted. "How did you find it?"

Sparr chuckled. "Fellow I met early on. Guy wouldn't shut up about wine amphorae. Insufferable, but I guess some of it rubbed off on me."

"To amphorae!" Tracee said, lifting her glass. Without waiting to see if anyone would join her, she took another gulp.

"So why are you staying?" Fowler asked.

Sparr had come to expect the question. While plenty of the crew were staying on, they all had clear professional reasons to do so. Melissa Carpenter and her anthropology team would stay on to continue to document the experience of the original colonists. They had a linguist who had worked out an alphabet to cover the unique blend of English, Spanish, French, and Mandarin that formed the local language. There was talk of forming schools to reintroduce written language to the inhabitants. Others would provide security, continue to map the planet for resources which could be harvested without digging up plagues, and scout future colonization sites.

"I have more work here." Sparr knew the answer to many would be inadequate. Back on Earth he would have access to fantastically powerful tools even beyond those in his lab onboard the Odysseus. He would be able to begin the important work of defining taxonomies, separating order, genus, and species of the creatures he had sampled. Even if K2 Genetics sent him on another mission off-world, his legacy would be guaranteed. Yet Sparr was sure that wouldn't be enough. He would be leaving Kaybe with only a fraction of the genetic trove the planet surely held. Worse, he would be squandering the opportunity to further investigate the Originals and the genetic history of the planet. He alone had built relationships with the Precipice, and by extension, the Originals. By remaining on Kaybe Sparr might even learn what other worlds the enigmatic creatures had discovered.

"I don't know," Fowler said, examining the remains of the picnic. "Sure it's your work, but it's also five years of your life." The captain was referring to how long Sparr and the others would have to wait for their next opportunity to return to Earth. A colonization mission was already being organized but it was years away.

Sparr shrugged. "I'm more useful here. And anyway, as long as I'm on Kaybe, K2 Genetics can't send me somewhere else. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I don't intend to give it up so they can send me to some barren moon to dig for bacteria."

"I told you that you wouldn't be able to convince him," Tracee said. "I already tried." Tracee's attempts to influence Sparr had mostly consisted of seducing him. It was tempting, but once back on Earth, Tracee would be sent to the Alliance academy for further training, while Sparr would return to K2 Genetics headquarters. A long-term relationship wasn't going to work.

Fowler ignored Tracee's less than subtle implication about her and Sparr's sex life. "Well if anyone deserves to chart their own path it's you." He had warmed to Sparr over the past months as the ongoing investigation into Calista and Kevin's accusations had turned against them.

The three watched as a shuttle took off, ferrying another load of crew back to the Odysseus. Most of those making the return trip to Earth had already been placed back into cryo sleep. The next morning Fowler, Tracee, and the final few remaining Alliance crew would join them.

"I take it that a certain rock hunter and her accomplice are returning to Earth?"

"Yes," Fowler said with a sigh. "Happner was supposed to stay on, but I've found someone to take his place on the security team. And Ms. Brandt, if I understand correctly, has been recalled by K2 Mineral. The investigation against them will conclude on Earth, but I have a feeling that neither one of them is going to walk."

"Oh hey, shit!" Tracee said suddenly. "Isn't today Alain's birthday?"

"What? Today isn't my bir-"

"Oh, right," Fowler said, cutting him off. "It is. Tracee, don't you have a gift for him?"

"Yeah, back in a sec." Tracee had already leapt up and started back toward the cluster of official buildings that made up the camp's core.

"It isn't my birthday," Sparr muttered.

"Humor us," Fowler said. "We're leaving tomorrow, and on your real birthday you were probably fighting in the arena or smashing drones."

"Or helping design ships, or hunting polar bears..."

"Right, exactly. By the way, whenever you do get back to Earth you should go on the lecture circuit, or write your memoirs or something."

"I was thinking of a field guide to Kaybe species, but thanks for the encouragement."

"A captain's duty," Fowler said. "Foster professional and personal development in his crew."

"I'm not Alliance crew."

"True enough, but you are a captain yourself now."

Sparr searched Fowler's expression for any sign of mockery. "What do you mean?"

"Tracee isn't the only one who gets to give you something on your birthday." He presented Sparr with a slim data cartridge.

"What is this?"

Fowler allowed himself a rare smile. "I'm transferring custody of the Sea Otter to you. K2 Mineral only paid for one-way transport of that thing, and without Calista here there's no one else with a claim to it. Plus, as I understand, the entire thing, including its custom drones, is configured for genetic collection. You'll put it to good use. This card will add you as a fully-authorized operator."

"Shit! This is awesome!" Sparr said, forgetting himself in the moment. "I mean, sir."

Possession of the sub would aid immeasurably in his search for more species. The logs he had already reviewed proved that Calista had moved about the planet impatiently, more interested in covering as much ground as possible than performing a thorough search. Sparr knew how to take his time, scanning for signs of life, and waiting to observe them before plotting the ideal approach for getting a DNA sample. What's more, with the sub he could move from coast to coast, including the Portal and back, without having to call for shuttle transport.

Spaar was about to more formally thank Captain Fowler, but the man was distracted, looking past Sparr back toward the camp. Sparr followed his gaze.

Tracee was walking toward them, a sly twist to her smile. An animal little larger than a dog followed, loping along with the exuberance of youth. Sparr gave it a closer look. The animal had solid hindquarters with heavy, bear-like paws, but its front legs and head were more dog-like, down to the round, lively eyes and wet nose.

"He looks like Bogg," Sparr said, his throat already tight with emotion.

"He is Bogg," Tracee said, grinning. "Or at least as close as you'll get. We cloned him."

The animal, still a cub, approached him, sniffing at the scent of Kaybe chicken on Sparr's fingers. Sparr scratched at the animal's muzzle, eliciting a familiar groan of pleasure. "Oh my god," Sparr said, no longer able to control his tears. He hugged the animal until it wriggled free.

"I'm sorry," Tracee said. "I should have warned you."

"No, no... it's okay." Sparr wiped the wet tracks from his cheeks. "This is really sweet."

"You sure you're going to be okay?"

"Yes," Sparr said. Again he reached out, mussing the animal's fur, as it rolled playfully on the ground. "We're okay.

"Bogg and I will be okay."

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Author's closing note.

This marks the end of Lost Colony. It is by far the longest series I have written, and I learned a good deal along the way. Several people helped make the story possible. First and foremost I want to thank my editor, L. Her encouragement, attention, and patience were invaluable. I would hand each chapter over to her, quite confident that it was ready. Each time she would politely identify scores of ways to improve it, including spotting many gaffes that should have been painfully obvious to me. Without L, Lost Colony would not be the story that it is. I also consulted with other Lit authors at the beginning. Their suggestions helped me get on the right track.

Those of you that offered supportive and/or constructive comments along the way have my undying gratitude. Kind words go a long way toward motivating me and taking the edge off of uneven ratings.

If you have any questions about the story, my writing process, or would like to provide me with feedback, I have started a in the story discussion portion of the bulletin board. Please join me there to provide feedback, ask questions, etc.