Star Trek: Gundam

Title: Star Trek: Gundam Episode 3
Authors: JoIsBishMyoga (JWPname@aol.com) and Makoto Sagara (makoto_sagara1@yahoo.com)
Archive: www.angelfire.com/anime3/makotosagara/frames/fanfiction.html, http://afallenangel.net/fandom/, http://www.wufeiduo.net, http://www.fanfiction.net
Pairings: 3x4, 5+2, eventual 1x2x5
Rating: PG-13
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.

Symbols: blah – either foreign (Klingon) or off-screen speech
*blah* - emphasized word
*~*~*~* - Change of scene
*~~~~~* - Dream sequence

*~~~~~~~*

There were two sets of hands on him. /Two?/ He paid no mind. Currently, a pair of violet eyes were staring at him from above, clouded over with lust. He was about to speak, when his mouth was devoured by the owner of those eyes. Moaning, he reached up and tried to press the vision in his arms, but was soon trying to bite back a scream as his arousal was engulfed into a warm, wet, and demanding mouth.

He was ever confused, because his mouth was still being attacked by the boy in his arms, and yet, there was someone else trying to suck his very soul out from his cock. He moved one hand from Duo to the person below, catching it on a baldhead./Strange. No hair? I have never dreamt of Deltans, despite the pheromones they give off. / He looked down, confusedly, into blue eyes, and gasped. His hips bucked as he felt himself go over the edge, spilling his warm seed everywhere.

*~~~~~~~~*

Wufei sat straight up from his dream as a warmth spread from his lower body. Looking down, he realized what happened. /Damn! I get no peace, even in my sleep./ The dream came back to him in flashes. /Duo… kissing me. And the other person, the hairless one... who the toDSaH(1) do I know without--? *No*. Not--!/ Wufei shot a glare at his sleeping crewmate.

/The drone's presence is *his* fault./ Duo rolled over, moaning softly in his sleep, and Wufei caught the scent of human arousal mixing with his own. He started to growl. /*That* is his fault, too./ He rolled out of bed, stifling his growling before he could wake the human, and stepped into the sonic shower. /It. Was. Random. Probably a Deltan. *not* the petaQ(2) *drone*!/ When he was finished with his shower, Duo was awake as well.

The braided boy looked up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Time is it, ‘Fei?”

“Time to work.”

Duo blinked a few times, still not awake. “Nah, can’t be. It’s still dark outside.” He pointed to the small window.

Wufei refused to dignify that with a response. He left the still half-asleep human in their quarters, and went to see if the others were awake. He glared at the creature, the *threat* that his alien crewmates refused to eliminate, and clenched his fists in impotent rage. The Borg didn't even have the decency to wake under the weight of Wufei's anger. How was he supposed to honorably fight someone who refused to wake for it?

He spun on his heel, growling, and stormed out of the cargo bay, away from the unbreathing, undead, dishonorable kleon(3). He passed through the sickbay, ignoring Trowa's placid half-hidden gaze, through the common room, and into the cockpit -- somewhat optimistically called the bridge -- where he found HoD(4) Winner piloting the ship.

"Good morning, Wufei," the blond said, deceptively, sickeningly cheerful as he was most days. "Did you sleep well?"

Wufei growled and replied in a particularly harsh dialect of Klingon that he personally kept wiping from the Universal Translator's memory banks. It was good for occasions such as this. /Good morning, Captain. I slept as well as can be expected with a spying, lying, homicidal alien computer-beast on board./

“I'll take that as a 'no', then, and might I add that it's *really* annoying when you do that?"

Wufei raised an eyebrow, and slid into his seat behind the weapons console, automatically glancing up warily as the doors next to him opened.

"Dammit, who set the alarm for 03:00 hours?" Duo glared at Wufei, knowing perfectly well the half-Klingon was the only person who would reset his alarm. "I was looking forward to more than four hours of sleep after yesterday's excitement." He made a show of checking the time on the nearest console. "Or today's. Whatever."

"A true warrior does not shirk his duties for mere *sleep*," Wufei said haughtily.

"I'm an *engineer*, not a warrior, *and* I'm not even Klingon, so don't hold me to your species' abilities."

"Weakling."

Duo shook his head, refusing to take the bait. "Wuffers, you should know better than to piss off the guy who works the ship's environmental controls. I can easily reset the temperature in here to "arctic", if you'd like."

Wufei snarled and slipped back into Klingon, telling Duo *exactly* what he could do with the environmental controls. Duo laughed.

"And on that note, I'm going to go check on my babies. Keep warm, Wuffers!"

Quatre shook his head as the braided boy left. "Is it just me, or is it odd when he calls the engines 'his babies'?"

"It's normal for engineering geniuses," Wufei replied. "Perhaps the *only* normal thing Maxwell *does*."

"What makes you say that?" Quatre asked, bristling.

"Can you think of *one* aspect of human behavior that he *does* do the way the rest of his species does?"

Quatre thought for a moment. "..... Well, he eats from a replicator."

"Ferenginar sushi, gagh(5) pizza, and Denebian devil-burgers are NOT included in human replicator menus. And you are aware that he has to get an inoculation from Trowa before consuming that Vulcan coffee he likes?"

“No, I wasn’t aware of that.” Quatre rubbed at his temples, trying to stave off the headache he knew was coming. “Ok, so Duo’s a bit… odd. Even for a human. He’s the best engineer I know.”

"I never said he wasn't. In fact, I clearly recall saying that his attitude towards his engines is normal for an engineering genius."

Quatre sighed, and quickly changed the conversation. “So, Wufei, are you picking anything up on your end?”

"Nothing," Wufei said. He didn't bother to add that, considering they were entering Romulan space, it was unlikely they'd pick up anything but the few ships that didn't travel here under cloak -- the official patrol vessels. Quatre was well aware of the difficulty of picking up a cloaked ship on scanners.

“Great,” the blond responded sarcastically. He looked at his own console, concentrating on piloting the small ship, and the conversation in the bridge died, with only the occasional comment about the direction they were headed in.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Duo sauntered into engineering, setting the Borg gear he had just picked up from cargo on the console next to him. "Hullo, Solo," he sighed. "I'm having the best -- or the worst -- day of my life, and it's not actually time to start it yet." He glanced at the softly pulsing warp core, and smiled wryly.

"We rescued this guy yesterday -- well, he's a drone, yanno, Borg, but he's not connected to the rest of them, so he's okay. Tro thinks he's an old model. I named him Heero. A bit silly of me, ne? But I just *can’t* call him One of Five. He's a person; he deserves a name. And don't glow at me like that, it's *not* just because he's cute!" Duo glared at the core, then picked up one of the Borg devices and started to examine it.

"Damn, Solo, you should see him. He's all pale and hairless, but he's got the most incredible blue eyes. Won't go into details about his bod, if he comes in here you can see for yourself -- those damn shorts Tro's got him wearing are actually more revealing than leaving him butt-naked -- and I am going to have a *hell* of a time keeping everyone from noticing that I'M noticing! Between Heero in those shorts and Wufei's usual pseudo-Klingon leathers... maybe I should just start wearing my tool belt all the time."

He sat down in his chair, put his feet up on the console, and tinkered with bits of the Borg salvage, keeping up a running commentary on ship life, Trowa and Quatre -- "Tro's practically orgasmic over the medical shit he's going to get to do to Heero. Well, orgasmic in that cool, reserved, living calculator sorta way Vulcans have. I'd have to hack into the computer logs for their room to see if that's *really* how Tro is when... yeah. You're right. Q *would* kick my ass if I tried." -- and anything else that popped into his head.

After about half an hour, he set the Borg salvage -- now a working scanning device and a half-built datapad -- aside. "Well, Solo, time for Father and Helen's daily checkups. Keep an eye on things here, wouldja?"

The warp core seemed to pulse in agreement, and Duo disappeared inside the Jeffries tubes to start the daily maintenance.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Captain! There is a ship decloaking off our port side!" Wufei said. "It appears to be a Battle Cruiser, reading Romulan engines and no ID."

"Go to alert, shields up, open hailing frequen--” A shot rattled the ship, cutting Quatre's words off. "Or not. Return fire!"

Their phasers, more powerful than they should have been for a ship their size, lashed out, making the cruiser's shields flash green.

"Evasive maneuvers!" Quatre called out, even as Wufei rolled the ship hard to port. A second enemy shot hit, but the third missed. They scored two more hits of their own before the far larger cruiser was able to get its bulk out of the way.

Trowa's voice rose over the noise of the firefight. "Captain, power drain on the shields, source unknown!"

Quatre slapped his hand down on the comm. "Duo, what the hell is going on down there! We're losing shields!"

"Tracing it now, Q-ball, keep your pants on -- Fuck! It's the alcove!"

“What?”

“Heero’s managed to tap into the shields for that damn alcove. What the fuck is he using all that power for?”

“We don't have time to figure it out! Get the power from anywhere you can, *except* weapons!"

"I'm trying, but all systems are kinda wonky right now!"

"Are *what*?"

"I'm doing what I can!"

"Captain, shields are down!"

"Activate quarantine fields!"

Trowa keyed in a quick sequence on his console, and throughout the ship, forcefields fell into place, isolating the bridge from the living quarters, engineering from the cargo bay, the cargo bay from sickbay... every doorway in the ship was now covered with a forcefield, and the access codes were locked to the voiceprints, gene sequences, and chosen command codes of the four crew.

Wufei opened a weapons locker and passed out the contents -- top-of-the-line phaser rifles, and backup Klingon disruptors -- without needing an order.

“Hey, Q, I got the power drain stopped. Someone what to tell me what the *hell* is going on up there?”

Trowa looked up from his console, pitching his voice loud enough for Duo to hear over the comm. "Eight beaming aboard, Captain. Location: crew quarters."

“Everyone get ready for a firefight! That means you too, Duo!” Quatre said.

“Gotcha, Q-bean!”

“Captain, shields are on-line once more. The boarding party will be receiving no reinforcements."

"Eight against four, then. Duo, what's your ETA?"

"Gimme three minutes, and I'll be on the far side of crew quarters. 'Kay?"

“Fine.”

From the other side of the bridge door, they heard a zap!, and muffled curses in Romulan.

"Looks like they found the forcefields," Quatre said, smiling sweetly.

"And burned their dirty romuluSngan(6) fingers," Wufei added, with a wicked smirk. The crew of the Gundam knew better than to touch Duo's 'jazzed-up' forcefields. The Romulans... did not.

That was when the lights went out.

The comm system crackled to life. "We are the Borg," twenty, thirty, voices chorused.

“The fuck you say?” Duo yelled.

“Cowardly, spying petaQ!" Wufei cursed.

"Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own," they continued. Romulans began screaming behind the door. "Resistance—“

"Wait, that's just one voice!" Quatre gasped.

"-- is futile."

"Captain, recommend rendering assistance to Heero,” Trowa said.

“Agreed. Weapons ready.” Quatre's hand hovered over the doorpad, as Wufei and Trowa lined up sights on the door. "Duo, you in position?"

"Duh! What's keeping you guys?"

Quatre set his hand on the keypad. "Computer, on my mark, drop forcefield and open door 1-1, bridge-to-crew quarters, and door 1-4, crew quarters-to-sickbay, authorization Raberba-four-zero-delta. Acknowledge."

Voiceprint identification, Captain Quatre Winner, acknowledged. Gene scan identification, Captain Quatre Winner, acknowledged. Command code, Captain Quatre Winner, acknowledged. Authorized.

"Three. Two. One. *Mark*!"

The doors opened, even as the forcefield shimmered blue-violet and dropped, revealing the eight Romulans hiding behind a large table they'd knocked over... their flanks completely exposed as they fired on a lone figure on the far side of the room, near the hatch to the cargo bay. The three on the bridge opened fire, and between them and Duo at the sickbay door, they took out half the Romulans on the first shot. In the second while the remaining intruders tried to adjust to the changed situation, the four crew fired again, felling the rest.

They trained their weapons on the single figure still standing, the 'Borg'.

"Show yourself!" Duo yelled.

Heero stepped from the shadows, hands held up next to his shoulders. Two thin rods jutted up from the back of his right hand, reaching past the top of his head.

"Tro, I thought you said he *didn’t* have nano-injectors?"

"He does not."

Heero reached over and calmly pulled the 'injectors' from his hand, revealing them to be slim bits of salvaged metal. A bit of blood shone wetly on the bottom tips. Duo cringed.

“Ew, that’s just gross.” He looked over the drone. “Any injuries?” Heero gave him a puzzled look.

"This unit is nonessential to the Gundam collective."

"We are *not* a taHqeq(7)--MMFF!"

Quatre smiled calmly from where he had his hand firmly clamped over Wufei's mouth. "The Gundam *crew* is a very small one, Heero. Every member, including you, is essential." Heero blinked. "So please answer Duo's question, and go with Trowa to have your wounds treated."

"This unit--"

"The word is 'I', Heero."

"... I ... am burnt on the shoulder, the underlying circuitry is in need of repair, and there are two lacerations on the right hand." Heero paused. "And I was unable to complete the regeneration cycle." Trowa came over to him.

“Come with me to sickbay. I will repair your injuries.” Heero nodded, and followed the doctor out of the room.

“Damn! Look at this room. These idiots,” Duo motioned towards the fallen intruders. “Are *so* gonna pay for this.”

“That will be simple to accomplish, Maxwell," Wufei said. "We will have to tie them up to prevent them from causing more trouble when they wake, and the only space large enough to accommodate eight useless pirates is the cargo bay." Duo snickered.

“They will have a perfect view of Heero’s chamber then.” He started laughing out loud. “We can just conveniently forget to tell ‘em we aren’t all Borgs…” Wufei smirked in agreement.

“Come on. Let’s get this over with. We still have a delivery to make, and this has just set us back a few hours, not to mention our discovery of Heero yesterday. If we’re lucky we can get there on time if we travel at warp 6,” Quatre said, rubbing his temples.

"Aye, aye, Captain!" Duo gave a mock salute.

"We'll handle this vermin, Captain. You go pilot the ship." The blond shot a look at the human, still saluting, and then turned to the Klingon.

“Thank you, Wufei, Duo. Come see me when you are finished.” He turned on his heels, returning to the bridge.

The half-Klingon and the human dragged the Romulans into the cargo bay, none too gently, and tied them securely to a pipe running the length of one wall, along the floor. They made sure to gag them as well, since the sound of their yelling would carry to the crew quarters above. Then, they climbed back up to the common room, and Duo looked around at the charred walls and ruined furniture.

"I *hate* boarding parties," he grumbled, as Wufei turned towards the sickbay instead of the bridge. "Hey! Where are you going?"

“To get some answers,” he growled. Duo followed, close on his heels.

“What kind of answers, ‘Fei?”

"*You*!" Wufei shouted as he stormed into Sickbay, barreling down on Heero. "Who is your pIn'a’(8), tokhe straav(9)? What orders are you under? HOW DID YOU SABOTAGE THE SHIELDS?"

"This u... I did nothing. The alcove should not be tied into the shields at all. I will examine it." Trowa looked at the raging weapons specialist, and the human at the door.

“He will deal with it when I release him. Now, if you will excuse us.” The Vulcan moved them politely out of the sickbay.

“Yeah, c'mon Wu, the Captain wanted to see us, remember? And we've got flying to do and an appointment to keep!"

"I know that, Maxwell. Get *off* of me!"

Duo's laughter rang through the ship.

On the next episode of Star Trek: Gundam -- The Gundam arrives in port, where rumor has it that the ship has been assimilated! In a sector where the rule is "shoot first, and loot the bodies later", and the Borg are less welcome than a shipment of hungry Denebian slime-devils, how is the crew to cope?

Klingon Dictionary:
(1) toDSaH – curse word
(2) petaQ – curse word
(3) kleon – enemy/opponent, which are the same thing to Klingons
(4) HoD – Captain
(5) Gagh – Klingon dish, best served live
(6) RomuluSngan – Romulan
(7) TaHqeq – curse word
(8) Pln’a’ – master
(9) Tokhe straav – willing slave