AFF Fiction Portal

Star Trek: Gundam

By: makochan0217
folder Gundam Wing/AC › AU - Alternate Universe
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 12
Views: 1,013
Reviews: 0
Recommended: 0
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: My co-author and I hold no copyrights to either Gundam Wing or the Trek-verse. No money is made from this. Only fun is had. Suing results in lint and unwanted siblings.
arrow_back Previous Next arrow_forward

Episode Nine: Tempertures Risan

Title: Star Trek - Gundam Episode 9
Authors: JoIsBishMyoga (JWPname AT AOL . com) and Makoto Sagara (makoto sagara 1 AT yahoo . com)
Archive: makotosagara . net / fanfiction, fanfiction . net, Foreverfandom . net, wufeiduo . net, Ventilation Shaft, Le Ciel Place, Jadeduo’s site; anywhere else, please ask.
Pairings: 3x4, 5x2, eventual 1x2x5
Rating: R
Category: Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Action/Adventure
Warnings: Shonen-ai, Language, Crossover, AU

Disclaimers: Mako: Oh, we own nothing, not even our own places to live. We are only borrowing the G-boys and the Star Trek universe for play. We promise to return everything the way we found them. We make no money off of this. Jo: Although we sure WISH we did... anyways, if you sue, you'll only be able to take the cat. That'll make my dad very happy, b/c she meows all night and scratches up the furniture. Mako: I don’t care what you say, they can’t have my dog. MINE!

A/N: Mako: Oi, it’s entirely my fault this time that the chapter got delayed so badly. I moved… TWICE, got a dog, switched shifts and forgot what an online life was about. All complaints and yelling can be directed at me this time. No blaming the Jo-chan. Jo: I thought the A/N's that we wrote said it WAS my fault... those notes we're replacing with this? Mako: Yes, see, at first, it was your fault, and then, I dropped off the face of the planet for a few months. Therefore, my fault. Jo: Oh good. Just making sure. Mako: Yes, they get to yell at me now. (Sigh) I have no idea what happened to me this time around. Do you believe that my muses even abandoned me in the interim? Jo: Yes. I saw them in the Virgin Islands. They may as well have had margaritas on IV. Mako: (pout) Darned buggers got blitzed without me. That's it! I'm on strike again. Jo: Oh yeah. They were blitzed, all right. Poured them out of the hammock myself. Mako: (growls as she looks for her dumb muses that are having fun without her) Have I mentioned lately how much I hate them? Can I leave them for Chris now? Jo: Not unless he's got muse credentials, which I doubt, considering that he isn't a sadistic paranormal myth incarnate... Mako: No, but he -is- cute. Isn't that part of the deal too? Jo: No, "cute" applies to bishonen, small children, small animals, and stuffed toys as well. It isn't a qualifier. Mako: (pout) Oh well, still have him anyway... (Looks around) Aren't we supposed to be writing something again? Jo: We are? Mako: (looks at the mob gathering) Yeah, I think we are. Are those pitchforks and whips? Is it too late to call in scared? Jo: I would say... never. (Calls in scared, goes chibi, and darts under bed) Mako: (calls in terrified, turns chibified, and hides in Asuka-chama's hair) Ficcage shall ensue! (Points to chapter) Jo: On with the fic!

Episode Nine – Temperatures Risan

Captain’s log, stardate 43067.8: The Dread Pirate Roberts -- as our benefactor would prefer to be chronicled as, for security reasons -- has returned us to the relative safety of Federation space, and left for parts unknown... much to the extremely vocal relief of our engineer.

The Gundam has returned to relative peace, by our security officer's standards, and we are enroute to one of our contacts on Risa to make a delivery. While there, the crew will be taking some downtime, and we'll work on Heero's socialization.

Captain's log, supplemental: Duo's finally emerged from the depths of the engine room and allowed himself to be disarmed. The ship has suffered little structural damage from the Dread Pirate Roberts' visit -- despite the clashes with Duo -- and he and Wufei have made up. Trowa has been extremely considerate of the psychic backlash from this recurring event, and added a half-dose of all-purpose painkiller to the replicator's morning coffee programs. On Duo's suggestion -- and against Wufei's protests -- we are going to Risa. One of Duo's contacts makes his headquarters there. He has better lines to the right people in Starfleet, and we won't run the risk of having Heero confiscated.

Risa is probably the safest place to begin exposing Heero to more of civilization than just us. I just hope Duo knows what he's doing...

“See, ‘Ro, isn’t it beautiful?” Duo said, draping one arm casually around the Borg’s neck as they stood on the edge of the cargo hold, looking out at the vacation planet, Risa. A wind picked up and blew through the palm trees and the sound of waves crashing on the white sand could be heard even from where they stood.

"It is very..." Heero seemed at a loss, "... M-class."

Duo sighed and pulled the other closer just a bit, giving him his best forlorn look. “Heero… Heero… Heero… What am I going to do with you?”

"I do not know. Human behaviors are only predictable en masse."

“So, I’m a human behavior now, am I?” The human tried to make it sound like he was upset by the comment, but only succeeded in sounding a bit intrigued.

"You are human. A crowd of humans is predictable. A single human is not."

Before Duo could answer, Wufei stomped in, wearing the traditional old-Earth costume that had been imported to Risa centuries ago: a pair of swim trunks that left most of the thigh bare, and a type of loose sandal known as a 'flip-flop'. He was scowling fit to kill someone.

Unconsciously, Duo licked his lips at the sight his lover presented and pulled Heero even closer. “So… ‘Fei, gonna do any… swimming?” His voice was a bit low and a wicked gleam flashed in his eyes as he continued to stare.

"NO."

“Too bad,” Duo purred, moving so he could touch Wufei, but just barely. “I’d love to see you… wet.”

"As your ancestors used to say: Deal," Wufei snapped, crossing his arms over his chest, visibly seething... and 'seething' for a Klingon was 'homicidally enraged' in almost any other species.

Duo pouted cutely, even if he would never admit that it was, and shrugged it off after a few seconds of moping. “Oh well…” He then took off his pants and shirt, only to reveal that he was attired similarly to Wufei. “I am. Come on, ‘Ro. I bet you can swim in those spandex shorts.”

"He may not," Trowa stated, entering the bridge with a bundle in his arms. "The seas of this planet have too high a salt content; it will aggravate his skin. He may swim in the distilled pools, but not the human-traditional, the spiced or scented pools, or any of the hot springs."

Quatre came out, dressed in swim trunks, a t-shirt, sandals, a hat, and sunglasses, and carrying a towel and book. He had a splotch of zinc-oxide on his nose. "Well, sounds like he'll be hanging out with me this afternoon then."

Duo blinked for a few minutes, his mouth hanging open as he gawked at the Betazoid. Then, after he got over the initial viewing, he started to laugh so hard he had to hold his sides. “Oh… Q… If you could… just see yourself,” he wheezed between massive chuckles.

Trowa opened the bundle, revealing it to be a long-sleeved mesh garment -- a cover-up, one of the rarest of proper garments in Risan culture -- a wide-brimmed hat similar to Quatre's, a spray bottle, and a silvery metal wristband similar to a watch. The faceplate had a tiny, flashing red light in the center. "These will prevent sunburn," he said simply. "Your body hasn't yet regenerated much of the dermal pigmentation your genes code for. The radiation will stimulate it, but it will also burn if you do not take the necessary precautions at first.”

Quatre readjusted the brim of his hat and fixed a lovely glare on the breathless engineer. “And what, pray tell, is exactly wrong with how I look?” His voice was one of cool superiority mixed with just a hint of annoyance.

“Nothing, Q-ball. Nothing at all. Except we’re on Risa.” By that time, Duo had managed to contain his laughter only to minor patches of chuckles.

Quatre shrugged, not seeing the significance of Duo’s statement. “Yes, I know that, Duo. I happen to burn easily. Besides, unlike some here, I believe in being covered most of the time.”

Duo looked at the barely dressed Wufei again before turning back to Quatre. "I
think our definitions of ‘covered’ differ, Q-man. Anyway... I'm going to go call Howie soon, and I'm taking 'Ro with me. Any objections?"

“Yes!" Wufei snapped automatically. Taking the Borg along? Out of the question.

The engineer sighed. He should have seen this one coming. "Oh? Care to share, 'Fei?"

"Where should I begin?" Wufei asked dryly.

"The unit is Borg," Heero recited. "The unit is hostile. The unit is a threat. The unit is an honourless, mangy, unnatural, mechanized, rabid targ--"

Duo and Quatre blinked before both beginning to laugh at the Klingon. "He's got you down perfect, Wufei," the captain blurted out before laughing again.

“HE DOES NOT!"

"--the unit is programmed to take advantage of any weakness--"

"THAT'S ENOUGH, BOR--" Wufei caught a glimpse of Duo's glare out of the corner of his eye, "--Heero."

Heero stopped mid-word. Sickening. People didn't just shut their voices off like... computers given a mute command.

Duo continued to glare at Wufei and then took Heero's hand before snatching the bundle from Trowa. "If you need us, we'll be getting Heero ready," he said coldly, dragging the Borg behind him without a second glance at anyone else.

Doors on starships didn't slam, but Duo somehow managed to leave that impression anyways.

Quatre and Trowa pinned Wufei with cool looks.

Wufei glowered out across the too-bright plaza, arms crossed. Warriors do not squint. No matter how bright the damn sun is.

Duo scowled at his "protection" before smiling briefly at Heero. He walked over to the information kiosk and went nearly all the way around before he found the pay comm he was looking for. "Perfect," he said jovially, nearly skipping up to it and dialing in the code he'd memorized by heart.

He was rewarded by a gruff "What?" as his answer.

"Well, Howie, it's nice to see that your manners are as great as ever."

"You should talk, kid. What do you want?"

"Well... I just came to say hello to ya," Duo said, trying to think of how to word the request from Quatre.

"Bull. If you're here, come on, but leave the Klingon with the stick up his ass
on that ship of yours."

Wufei leaned over fractionally, glaring into Howard's anachronistic sunglasses on the vidscreen. "Too late," he growled before snapping back upright, refocusing on The Borg.

"Terrific. And you brought the jerk. You owe me, Duo."

"I know, I know. I'll tell Sally you're interested next time I see her."

Howard seemed to start choking and turned red before giving Duo a very rude and
ancient human gesture and hanging up.

"Targ," Wufei muttered under his breath, watching Heero. The Borg -- in his hat, cover-up, sunglasses, and sandals -- was staring neutrally at the lightly crowded plaza.

Calculating targets, a little voice inside Wufei spoke up.

Confused and uncertain, a much smaller voice tried to say. Wufei quickly stomped that one flat and buried it.

Duo turned to the other two with him. "I can't believe he flipped me off. The man has no sense of humor whatsoever anymore."

"He deals with you," Wufei felt obliged to point out. "That's proof of having one."

Duo narrowed his eyes at Wufei, still not ready to forgive him just yet. "Who asked you? Come on, Heero. Howard's place is only a few kilometers from here."

The Borg turned silently away from the plaza, falling into step behind Duo.

Approximately twenty minutes later, they were facing what appeared to be a very neglected base: a ‘scrap yard’ in old Earth terms. "Ah, it's just like I never left." Duo held out an arm to stop Heero. "Um, Heero, if you don't know what it does, don't touch it, 'kay?"

Heero looked down at Duo's arm, barely brushing his torso, and sucked in his stomach. "Affirmative."

The human quirked an eyebrow before moving his arm and punching all the buttons on the keypad next to the gate.

"GODDAMMIT, DUO! Don't do that!" Howard's voice reached them before he did and
by the time he was in sight, his face and balding head were red. "Stupid kid. Get in here." His head whipped around to take in the Borg and Klingon. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Howie, this is Heero. Heero, this is Howard. He's normally not this grumpy, but we ruined his beauty sleep, looks like."

Wufei snorted.

Heero looked blandly at Howard. "Indeed."

"Smart ass," Howard snarled. "All of you, get your butts in here and don't let the locals catch you standing here."

"You sound like you're ashamed of me, Howie." Duo gave a mock pout with a few crocodile tears for added effect.

"Stop calling me that, Duo. And I have every right to be ashamed of you, but you know I'm not." A quick glance at Wufei had the older man sneering. "It's him that's the real pain, though."

Wufei growled. "I could show you real pain, ol..." A sharp elbow to his ribs shut him up.

Duo grinned as he pulled his arm back. "Anyway, Q needs a favor."

"What kind of favor? And how in the hell did you get yourself a Borg and not get assimilated?"

"Long story and Heero's not a full Borg. Tro took all the unnecessary hardware off. He's kinda like... A human with no personality and some cosmetic surgery."

"Riiiight. Come into my office, you three."

They walked through the large piles of scrapped ships and other things to a building that was in the back, hidden safely from the eyes of all the vacationers on the planet. Inside, there was a spacious and clean common room, filled with Howard's crew, who called themselves Sweepers. They walked down the hallway to a door at the end, opening up into a very comfortable office. Howard took a seat at his desk and waited for the others to sit before starting back up.

"What's Winner want this time?"

Duo sighed as he proceeded to get comfortable on the couch across from the desk. "Not so much as what Q wants, but Mariemaia."

"I'm listening."

"So's he," Wufei snarled, jerking his head at Heero. "Maxwell, he isn't cleared for this."

Heero's eyes flicked to Duo behind the sunglasses.

Duo sighed heavily. "Hey, Heero, can you go out to the common room for a bit? I'll come get you when we're done."

Heero nodded stiffly, then spun on his heel and walked out. The door (not the usual automatic style, but an ancient hinged type) fell shut behind him with a clang.

The braided man turned towards his lover with a very dangerous look. "Happy now?"

Wufei met Duo's eyes just long enough to show he wasn't cowed, and then turned away. "Almost. I'll be outside." Standing guard, he didn't add.

Duo sighed again as Wufei left the room. "So, where was I?"

"What's his problem?" Howard looked amused, but he was annoyed with the Klingon's behaviour as well.

"Jealousy," Duo muttered before sitting up straight. "Okay, about this favor. It involves Treize and the Federation..."

Commercial
(A goggle-eyed face fills the screen, cybernetic pupils focusing right on the screen. After a half-second, the view zooms out slightly, showing an old man with long, gray hair and a receding hairline sitting before a blank screen.)

"Is your hair limp? Dull? Dingy? Gods forbid... gray?" a cool female voice over asks.

(A grasping, mechanical hand comes into view, brushing at a lock of the old man's
hair. )

“No more, with Pilot Pro-V!"

(The view cuts away to off-white bottles of shampoo, rolling across a dewy tiled
countertop.)

"Pilot Pro-V," the voice over continues. (A series of pictures flashes onto the screen: a young man with long blond hair, a younger man with thick, light brown hair falling across his face, another with a long, thick braid of a slightly darker shade; a Chinese man with a short, sleek ponytail.) "Specially formulated for your hair type. Try it today.”

End Commercial

Quatre looked up from his book at Trowa, who was sitting in the lounge chair next to him by one of the many public pools on Risa. “I wonder how Duo, Wufei and Heero are getting along right now. I’m not sure if it was a good idea to let the three of them head out together.”

"It was the most logical option," Trowa replied calmly, taking a long drink of water. Risa was not as hot or as bright as Vulcan, but the humidity was less than optimal for him.

The Betazoid shrugged, readjusting the brim of his wide hat. "Logical is not really what I would have called that. I think that Wufei would have followed anyway."

"Indeed," Trowa agreed. "The dynamics between our three crewmates are most intriguing."

Quatre smiled. "Intriguing for you, maybe. Painful for me since Heero joined us."

Trowa's gaze flicked over to Quatre. "I was unaware their heightened emotional states were so distressing. Should I prescribe meditative therapy?" Chemical medicines could only do so much.

"There are other treatments that would be much more pleasurable." The grin spoke volumes about what was on the blond's mind.

Trowa raised an eyebrow. "Convenient that we are on a planet that encourages such treatments." More than encouraged: there were no public indecency laws. "It has been a remarkably long time since we underwent such treatment in an oceanic environment."

"And even longer that we've been completely alone at all. What do you say about taking advantage of this time?"

If Trowa had been anything but Vulcan, he would've cracked a knowing little smile. As it was, he merely glanced in the direction of a well-tended little grove and extended a hand to Quatre.

Quatre took his hand and stood, shedding his sunglasses and hat while doing so. He wasted no time in trying to drag his taller lover over to said grove.

Nature's oldest therapeutic technique was only improved by sunshine and fresh air, Trowa thought, idly analyzing both his physical state and Quatre's as they rinsed the residue of their exertions away using a conveniently-located nearby stream. The Betazoid seemed more relaxed than he had since long before Heero had come aboard, and the only differing variable was indeed the psychological benefits of outdoor mating. Humanoids simply hadn't evolved to perform indoors.

Quatre all but skipped back to the lounge chairs, but he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw their things in chairs other than the ones they had vacated. In fact, the ones they had previously been sitting in were now occupied by a cute blonde girl and her entourage of men, who looked more paranoid than Wufei and definitely were more out of place on Risa than the Klingon.

Trowa paused behind Quatre, casting his eyes over the guards. Capellans: definitely not a species to antagonize. He stepped forward to gather their things from the new chairs, and a guard stepped in his way.

"Those are our belongings," Trowa said flatly, pointing. The guard slapped his arm away.

The girl sat up and looked at the newcomers with a bright smile. "Don't mind A'llun. You are perfectly welcome to sit there," she said, cutting a dark glare at the guard. "My name is Relena Peacecraft. What are your names?"

Quatre eyed the guard as well before turning to greet the girl. "I am Quatre Winner of Betazed, and this is Trowa."

"Delighted to meet you," she chirped. "Please, do sit down."

It would have been illogical to refuse the invitation, so Trowa set their belongings on a double-wide lounge and sat, inclining his head politely at the girl.

Relena blinked for a moment before smiling again. "You're Vulcan, right? I used to know a Vulcan back home. Oh, home for me is Ventax 1. Have you ever been there? It's beautiful, and so peaceful. You really should see it. I'm here on vacation. Risa has the most beautiful beaches, but nothing can beat Ventax for scenery. Don't you think?"

Quatre made to at least answer one of the girl's questions, but no sooner had he attempted when she started back up with her diarrhea of the mouth.

"So, what are you doing here? Vacationing? What do you do? Do you have any more friends? I'm having a party tonight because it is my birthday."

Trowa opened his mouth to answer, but Relena plowed on.

"Or as close as you can get what with different day lengths for every planet. My grandfather told me all about the strange days he had when he was an ambassador... Ambassador Narendra Pargan Peacecraft. Like there was the planet where a day cycle lasted two Terran weeks, can you imagine?"

Quatre shook his head, amazed that they had finally found someone who could out-do Duo and Hilde when they were having one of their little 'talks'. And still, Relena continued.

"You know, ever since I was a little girl, I've always wanted to be like my grandfather. He was so wise and did so many great things. Do you think that I will be able to? I bet I will. At least, that's what Mother always says. Father is decidedly closed-lipped about my grandfather. Of course, Grandfather never approved of their arrangement, but such are things sometimes..."

She sighed dramatically before running a hand through her long hair. "So, tell me about yourselves."

Trowa glanced at Quatre. "We are two of a five-crew merchant ship," he said succinctly.

Relena perked up a bit. "Are you all male?"

"Indeed."

"That sounds like it would be fun. Traveling the universe without any worries." She seemed to look around a bit, ignoring the looks that she was getting from her guards. "So, where are the other members of your crew?"

"They went to visit a friend."

"Ah, how great that sounds. You know, the five of you should come to my party tonight. I would love to meet your friends." Before Quatre could politely decline, Duo showed up with Heero and Wufei right behind him.

"I said I don't want to hear it, Wufei. It's bad enough that 'Ro's dressed up like the Scarecrow from the Wizard of Oz, thanks to Tro. I'm not going to listen to you badmouth him while he's right here."

"I am NOT 'badmouthing' the creature--!"

"My designation is not 'the creature'."

Trowa turned to Relena. "Those would be our crewmates. Perhaps it would be wise to reconsider," he pointed out.

Relena gave a confused look to the Vulcan before re-examining the newcomers. Her eyes latched onto the one that had spoken last. "They don't seem to be harmful. Did the first one refer to the last as Heero? What an interesting name..." Her voice had taken on a slightly dreamy tone as she continued to stare. "Can I meet them?"

Duo heard the last line and caught the stupid look on the girl's face before smirking. "I'm sure you're able, lady. The question would be are you ready to meet us." He held out his hand, ignoring the glares from both Wufei and the guard that had hit Trowa. "Name's Duo Maxwell, of Earth."

Relena shook his hand daintily. "Relena Peacecraft, Ventax."

Wufei's glare flicked away from the guards for all of a second. He sneered wordlessly, dismissing her as a threat, then returned to suspiciously glaring at Heero and the guards equally.

Duo raised an eyebrow at the girl. "Ventax. Cool place."

"You've been?" Relena asked. She looked at her guards again and sighed. "Well, I must go. Every one of you must come to my birthday party tonight. It's at the large public pool this evening. I will expect all five of you to come." She stood and smiled, taking a closer look at Heero for a minute before being swept away by her entourage and disappearing out of sight.

Freed of the guards' presence, Wufei turned to glower at Quatre and Trowa, disbelief dripping from his voice. "Did a Ventaxian just invite five complete strangers to a party?"

Quatre sighed. "Yes, and that, unfortunately, is quite common amongst their race."

Duo snickered. "Yeah, but their parties always suck. Soooooooo boring."

"We are not going, then," Wufei concluded.

"Parties are irrelevant," Heero agreed.

Quatre shook his head. "It's impolite not to show up after the initial offering. She didn't let me refuse. Now, we have to go or it'd be a sign of extreme rudeness."

"In other words, what Q is trying to say is that we're stuck going," Duo said, shaking his head.

"Absolutely not," Wufei and Heero chorused. Wufei glared at Heero, who stared back in complete, machinelike ignorance.

"Actually, you -are- going." Quatre's blue eyes narrowed dangerously. "If I have to go, so do you."

The two of them stared at Quatre. "You do not have to go," Heero said. "Rude is irrelevant."

I can't believe I'm agreeing with the Borg. "She did not allow you the chance to refuse. It is dishonorable."

"Yes, you're right, but she's the granddaughter of Ambassador Narendra Pargan Peacecraft," the captain stated, somehow regretting his little foray into the forest with Trowa now.

Duo let out a low whistle. "Important little chick. No wonder she was surrounded by all the suits."

"Irrelevant," Heero repeated stubbornly.

"You're going. That's final," Quatre stated. "And an order," he added for Wufei's benefit.

Wufei and Heero scowled.

Notes:
1 Ventaxians are the humanoid race from the peaceful world of Ventax II. Ventaxian technology is somewhat behind modern standards, probably since the Ventaxian people have minimal interest in spaceflight. They have a very peaceful, clean world that is the result of a 1000 year improvement plan called the "Contract of Ardra." http://cage.p.tripod.com/v.htm
arrow_back Previous Next arrow_forward

Age Verification Required

This website contains adult content. You must be 18 years or older to access this site.

Are you 18 years of age or older?