Star Trek: Gundam

Title: Star Trek - Gundam Episode 7
Authors: JoIsBishMyoga (JWPname@aol.com) and Makoto Sagara (makoto_sagara1@yahoo.com)
Archive: afallenangel.net/makotosagara/frames/fanfiction.html, 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.

A/N: Mako: *gets all floaty, spacey, and gone* Too much fun, not enough actual work… *looks down* Ne, Jo, it’s my fault we didn’t start this earlier, isn’t it?
Jo: This time, yes.
Mako: *snerk* I couldn’t help it. Neko made me start a few more fics, then I got dragged into some *loverly* RPs with Skeren Dreamera and Bagelbunion, and well… Mako’s got a case of the bubblehead now… *beams happily* But I’m here to work now!!
Jo: Do I need to get a stick to pop your bubble and get you back down here?
Mako: *shakes head vehemently* No, no, no. I’m here! *looks at Neko* Um, I’m definitely here now…
Jo: And it looks like you're not going to be here long, if that brat has anything to say about it. On with the fic!
Mako: Yes! On with the flic! I mean, fic!

Symbols: blah – either foreign (Klingon/Romulan) or off-screen speech
*blah* - emphasized word
*~*~*~* - Change of scene
~blah~ - sound effects

Wufei woke slowly, wrapped around Duo and butt-naked. This was not a bad way to wake up; in fact, he rather liked it. He glanced at the clock -- shoot, they had to be in Klingon space by now. He pulled himself out of bed and walked over to the comm unit. As he tapped in an old comm code, he heard Duo shift under the covers.

Duo whimpered as he lost his source of heat and curled into a ball, face scrunched up. "'Fei?" he asked sleepily, not opening his eyes.

"Go back to sleep, Duo," Wufei answered, hitting 'send'.

Duo cracked open his eyes. "Who ya callin', 'Fei?" He sat up, closing his eyes as the lights shone in them.

"Bao."

"Eh? Who?"

"An old friend, from the House of Tsong." The call went through, and started ringing.

Duo rubbed his eyes as he watched Wufei. He stretched languidly and smiled. "You look good naked."

Wufei shrugged. That was generally the result of Klingon metabolism and a healthy combination of exercise and diet. Though he rather preferred the exercise he was getting with (and in) Duo. "So do you. Not that you don't know it." A snarl of polite Klingon came through the speakers.



Wufei allowed a smirk and answered in the same language.



Duo snickered lightly and moved over to the sonic shower to clean up. It always amused him to hear Wufei speak in Klingon, even if some of his words weren't exactly nice.

When he came back in, Wufei was just finishing up the call. "So we'll see you in a few hours."



"Have you forgotten I'm not an idiot? I'm not going to risk dealing with HER."



"She's almost forgiven me, then."

<... and use your ribs as a comb and your spine as hair ornaments. Last I heard.>

"Oh."

"Sounds like you made one lady a *very* unhappy person," Duo replied in Klingon and slipped on a clean pair of black pants and a matching black t-shirt. "Can't imagine how."

"Later, Bao." Wufei hung up, and turned to Duo. "She's mildly annoyed." He shrugged. "And it's all politics, but she can't fight the entire House of Duras and the Council. So it's my fault."

Duo looked at Wufei, taking in the tightness in his shoulders. "You know, if I didn't have to go down to engineering, I'd make you relax. Just… don't hurt the walls or anything. That's my job," he said, pulling his belt on and kissing the half-Klingon's cheek. "Later, 'Fei."

Wufei growled, annoyed, and grabbed Duo's waistband. He yanked the engineer into his lap. "I HATE duty right now," he confided, before pulling Duo into a hard kiss. A final nip, and he pushed Duo away. "Go."

The human snickered. "You know, hearing you say that is worth the fact that I'm going to be late to check the warp engine," he replied sassily and left the room.

Wufei bit back a most un-Klingon sigh, glared his reawakening erection away, and went to get showered and dressed.

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

Quatre looked up as his security officer stepped on the bridge. “Thank goodness you’re finally here, Wufei,” he said, grimacing. “You and Heero have the bridge until I get some sleep, and Trowa returns from his rest as well. Please refrain from killing anyone or fighting too much. And unless we are under attack, or you *really* need us, don’t contact either of us,” he finished, breezing passed the ex-Borg and the Klingon. “And, stop broadcasting. It’s giving me a headache.”

Wufei bowed his head curtly. "I've made arrangements to meet a contact in a few hours. He'll help get us through the Empire. Go rest."

“Thank you,” Quatre added, leaving, and the doors closed behind him. Heero looked over at Wufei, who was scowling.

“Contact?”

Wufei briefly considered telling the machine it was none of his business, but... was that jealousy or prudence? "An old classmate. The Empire has never been safe for humans, but it's particularly hostile right now. The House of Duras is in power."

Heero nodded and looked at the control panel in front of him. He understood briefly what Wufei was saying. He had managed to read up on the Klingon political situation during one of his many stints with the ship's data records.

The tension was broken by Duo lugging a huge box of parts onto the bridge and plopping down into the captain's chair. "Oh, real stimulating conversing going on, you two," he quipped, winking at Wufei as he took a few parts out of the box.

"I'd give you 'stimulating', Maxwell, but we're on duty," Wufei snapped back without thinking.

Duo chuckled, grabbing a few tools from his belt as he worked. "Oh, I'd love to, Fei-bebi, but you're right. We're supposed to be working." He held up the materials in his hands.

"And just what are you working on?" Wufei asked, figuring that Duo was pushing for him to ask.

"Gift," Duo replied cryptically.

"What, and for who?"

"Thinkin' about a little figurine for my favourite Klingon."

... That was worrying. "Do I want to know?" Wufei asked acidly.

"Awww, you worry too much," Duo said, obviously amused, taking out a tiny laser and fusing a few pieces of metal together. "You'll like it."

Considering what Duo had just figured out about Wufei's attractions... "You'd better be SURE of that." If Duo was making a miniature Heero or something ridiculous like that, Wufei would hurt him. Not seriously, but he would.

“Oh, I'm positive." Taking out the laser again, he lopped off a corner, holding up the miniature Bat'tleth that looked exactly like the one Wufei had hanging on the walls in their room.

Wufei raised an eyebrow. "Ah," was all he could say.

Duo snorted. "Told you." He put the small blade down and picked up more wires and metal pieces, beginning to fuse the wires together, and creating a new datapad for his Vulcan friend. "You thought I was gonna give you something... kinky?"

"No." He hadn't even thought of that, though he should've.

“Then what?” He continued to play with the wires, taking out a knife and splaying the wires. He grimaced as he accidentally cut his finger. “Shit.”

Wufei stepped around his console, grabbing Duo's hand. "Pay attention," he grumbled, pulling Duo's hand to his mouth. He licked the tiny trickle of blood away, to see the wound was small. Good -- no need for a dermal regenerator.

Duo purred as Wufei's tongue touched his skin. "What else can you do with that tongue, 'Fei?"

"Later." Wufei licked the tiny wound again, then pulled the finger fully into his mouth. He didn't care that Heero was watching -- let the damn machine watch. Duo was HIS. He swirled his tongue around the digit, then sucked gently.

Duo's face flushed a bit. "'Fei. Audience," he panted, eyes closing as Wufei's mouth molested his finger.

"Screw the audience," Wufei muttered. But he released Duo's hand.

Duo snorted. "Who's the kinky one now?"

"You still are," Wufei said, returning to his console.

“I’ll show you later,” Duo muttered, taking all his parts and throwing them into the box. He then stood up with it and looked at Wufei. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he replied, heading down to engineering.

Wufei didn't dignify that with an answer, as he guided the ship into atmosphere, found a good spot, and set the ship down. They had only been waiting forty minutes before a much calmer Quatre reappeared on the bridge, being trailed by Trowa.

"What's the situation, Wufei?"

"We've landed at the rendezvous point."

"And? When is your contact supposed to arrive?" Quatre stopped to think for a moment and turned to look at Trowa. "I don't think it's a good idea to expose Heero to too many hostile Klingons. They might see it as an insult, or try to kill him and/or us. What do you think, Trowa?"

“It would be advisable," Trowa agreed. "Might I recommend that we avoid allowing the Klingons to see the alcove as well?"

"That makes sense. They would more than likely panic if they saw it." Quatre turned to Wufei. "What do you suggest? The alcove is too large to put anywhere else but the cargo bay, and that is the only way onto the ship, without transporting."

"We'll have to meet outside, then," Wufei admitted reluctantly.

"Then it's mostly settled. What time are we supposed to be meeting your contact?"

Duo chose that moment to reappear. "What's going on, guys? Hey, Q, you look better."

"Thank you, Duo," Quatre replied dryly. "We're discussing our rendezvous with Wufei's contact."

"He'll signal when he arrives. That should be in another half hour, minimum."

Duo smirked. "That's long enough." He leered at Wufei before stepping back slowly.

"Just shout your intentions to the galaxy, why don't you," Wufei muttered, following regardless.

“That’d be too easy,” the human retorted, dragging his lover to their quarters.

Quatre sighed. “We should really stop them before they get started *again*.”

"Scanners are reading a ship in atmosphere," Heero announced loudly.

“What class, Heero?”

"Raptor class, Captain. Not broadcasting ID."

Wufei stormed back onto the bridge, his thwarted scowl enough to curdle milk. "He's early," he snarled.

Duo followed closely behind. “I didn’t know that your friend had a Raptor class, ‘Fei,” he said, his face a near mimic of the Klingon’s.

"He could hardly use a shuttlecraft, could he," Wufei pointed out, running a passive scan of the ship. "Though it might not be--" A burst of oddly wavering static hissed through the speakers. "Never mind. It's Bao."

“Yanno, he could have better timing. Who shows up early to escort a crew of unwanted ‘human’ scum through Klingon space?” Duo said, his anger deflating.

"Bao, apparently," Wufei said. "He's never had the best timing."

Quatre could have sworn that he heard Duo mutter something along the lines of “you could say that again.” Sighing wearily, Quatre stood up straight. “Well, I suppose we should decide who is going out to meet him? Wufei… and?”

Duo raised his hand. “Me. I get to go,” he said, his voice sounding a bit forced.

“Fine,” Quatre replied. “We will stay here and wait for your return. Heero, you can go back to your console if you wish.”

Heero nodded curtly, sitting back down at the console he’d been at before the interruption. With that, Wufei and Duo headed down to the cargo bay and out of the ship. They walked until they were halfway to the other ship before twenty Klingon officers stepped out, weapons drawn.

“Shit,” Duo hissed. “I *told* you I had a bad feeling about this.”

one of the Klingons snarled.

"I see we've been betrayed by the House of Tsong," Wufei said coldly, eyeing the speaker.

"Jazz, opera, or rock?" Duo quipped.



Seeing no other option, both crewmembers slowly raised their hands in the air, movements for their weapons forgotten.

The officer jerked his head towards Wufei, and one of his underlings stepped forward. The underling briskly tore away various parts of Wufei's outfit -- his wrist guards, his belt buckle, his Klingon sash, even bits of ornamentation from his boots and his hair tie. He then quickly frisked the human, confiscating a knife from Duo's boot. Now disarmed, the two were marched back to the Gundam at phaserpoint.

As they approached the Gundam, the head officer yanked Duo to him by his braid.

“Oi,” Duo shouted, a hand grabbing at the base of his skull where most of the pull was coming from. “Not the hair!”

"Silence," the officer snapped in English, jerking Duo's head a bit further back and putting his taj knife to it. "You will behave, and your crew will obey, or we will start slicing pieces off," he told Wufei.

Wufei stiffened in outrage, his fists clenching. The officer tapped Duo's throat with the tip of his knife, and Wufei hissed. "That. Won't. Be. Necessary."

The leader nodded to another Klingon, and the other man pulled a comm device from his belt. "Illegal ship Gundam! This is the Imperial Guard! Answer!"

Quatre slapped on the comm button. “This is Captain Winner of the Gundam. Where are our shipmates?”

"You and your crew are under arrest! Surrender yourselves and your vessel!"

“Are my crew members safe? Wufei? Duo?”

"Put on your visuals, Federation fool!" the Klingon snapped. "They're uninjured, YET. Surrender!"

Quatre nodded to Trowa and the group of Klingons popped up on the screen, the obvious leader holding a knife to Duo’s throat and Wufei surrounded by two thirds of the group. He nearly snarled, but held back. “We surrender.”

"Wise choice."

Duo growled, but otherwise remained silent, glaring at their captors.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
====Extra Special Commercial Break====
*Duo is standing before a white backdrop. He grins, opens his mouth, and sings.* My bishounen has a first name. It's W-U-F-E-I.
My bishounen has a second name. It's C-H-A-N-G.
I love to watch him everyday, and if you ask me why I'll saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay. Because Chang Wufei has a way with S-E-X-X-X-X-Y.
*Wufei grabs Duo and yanks him away from the camera, bright red and furious* MAXWELL!!
====End Commercial Break====
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Well, this is a lovely mess you’ve gotten us into,” Duo replied in English, glaring at the Klingons who were holding them captive on their own ship. “Why’d I even wake up this morning?”

"This lovely mess is that sniveling bastard's fault, and I will see him pay for this betrayal," Wufei growled, the double meaning intentional. 'Pay' meant 'regret' in Klingon.

Duo snorted. “Of course. So, what are we going to do *now*?”

Wufei had no answer.

They all looked up as their captors allowed Heero to rejoin them in the common room, after an ‘examination’.

“Heero?” Quatre said, moving slowly to the Borg. “Are you alright?”

"This unit remains functional," Heero replied icily.

“Well, that’s a relief,” the captain replied. He looked at Trowa, who seemed to be lost in thought, his face seemingly open to his natural Vulcan pensiveness.

The Klingons who weren’t watching over them were looking over the ship, and discussing the ‘luxuriousness’ of the accommodations. The head officer -- who, by this time, had bothered to introduce himself as Mork, son of Mook -- threw himself into one of the lounge chairs in disgust. "Weak," he sneered to the room at large.

"Soft," one of the others agreed, picking at the padding, equally disgusted.

Duo snorted. “Man, they’re gonna fuck up my engines… I just know it,” he said, irritated beyond measure.

"We have found contraband!" A hulking, excited officer stormed from Quatre and Trowa's room, a drawer under his arm. He slammed it down onto the table triumphantly.

Mork peered into the drawer. "You have done well. What is it?"

"I do not know. Therefore, it must be illegal!"

Quatre blushed. He knew what was in that drawer. It wasn’t contraband, but if Duo saw it, he’d never hear the end of it.

Mork reached into the drawer and lifted out an egg-shaped object. He tilted it from side to side, peering curiously. Suddenly, it began to buzz. He dropped it and pulled his disruptor on it. "What is this?!" he snarled at the crew.

Trowa raised an eyebrow, and Quatre buried his face in his hands, bright red.

Duo watched and then busted out into laughter. “Ooooh, I know what that is,” he singsonged, elbowing Quatre and leering at Trowa. He then turned to Wufei. “Can we get some of those at the next port we land at,” he whispered huskily.

Wufei raised his own eyebrow haughtily. "You require one?" he asked pointedly.

"Answer the question, human!" Mork growled.

Duo turned to glare at the leader. “No, I don’t, but I’m pretty sure someone like you would.”

Mork turned the disruptor on the crew.

Quatre clamped a hand over Duo’s mouth. “Do *not* provoke the stupid captors, Duo,” he whispered. “They aren’t Wufei and have every right to kill us, if they want.”

"It's a sex toy," Wufei answered flatly. All the Klingons gave him blank stares. "The concept doesn't translate, so there are no laws in Klingon space regarding them."

Duo snickered from behind Quatre’s hand, and noticed that Heero looked confused. He tilted his head to the ex-Borg and then looked at Quatre. “You might have to explain that to Hee-chan over there, Q-ball.”

"He can look it up in the databanks. Later."

Wufei's mouth curved in a faint smirk. "Actually, we have little else to discuss, and a captive audience. We may as well... lecture."

“Then you tell him about it, Wufei,” Quatre spat, his face resembling a tomato.

"We have no interest in your 'lecture'. If you cannot explain it in ten seconds, it is contraband and the full penalties will be added to your sentence," the leader spat.

“Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. You won’t be so dumb afterwards,” Duo said, ducking Quatre’s hand but finding he was facing a scowling Wufei. “Er, or maybe not…”

"Shut. Up. Duo!" Wufei hissed. "In short, the object is used to enhance pleasure during sexual activity." The Klingons still looked blank. "Difficult as it is to believe, most Federation races consider mating to be more complex than insert-penis." He spat the last words, his language degrading in his annoyance.

Duo snickered, even though Wufei had chastised him. The looks on all the Klingons’ faces were more than enough to make him feel better. “Ah, the lovely mating rituals of the many races,” he said, obviously more that a bit amused with his own joke.

"... It is contraband and the penalties will be added to your sentence," Mork finally said, apparently unable to wrap his mind around the concept.

One of the subordinates called from the bridge. "Sir, ships uncloaking to port- starboard- all around! We're being hailed!"

“Well?!" Mork snarled. "Patch it through!"

A split second of silence, then a computer-distorted voice came through the common room speakers. "Hailing ship. Respond, ship."

"What do you want?" Mork snapped.

"I am the dread pirate Roberts, and I am confiscating this ship."

“No. Oh, shit,” Wufei whispered. Duo shot him a look. He just shook his head and listened.

"We are the Imperial Guard! YOU are under arrest!"

“Oh, I think not.” The voice changed to match Wufei’s perfectly. “Power down, authorization Remote-Chang-Eir-Zero.”

The Gundam cut power.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Mork nearly screamed, looking around for the rest of his men.

Six columns shimmered orange in the darkened room, coalescing into six humanoid figures, whom promptly opened fire.

“Who the hell?” Duo shouted, getting up and moving as close as was prudent to the party.

The shortest of the group stepped forward, and the emergency lights kicked in, revealing a tiny Klingon woman. She pulled the voice distorter away from her throat, and then smirked at the crew. "Hello, Wufei."

Wufei swallowed slowly, looking at the not so unfamiliar newcomer. “Hello... Meiran.”