The BLTS Archive - A Humble Request
Fourth in the Night Moves series
by Sue Duenn (sduenn@optonline.net)

---

Comments: As always, thanks to the real Mike, Rick, Derek and Hugh.
Not only are they my muses, they're also great friends! This piece is
dedicated to Rick and Derek who are currently in uniform defending our
honor and freedom. Thanks also to Quixar, who likes my writing when I
don't have sex in it (so, yes--he gets edited versions to beta for
me!).

Beta reader(s): Snorkler318, Quixar

Archived to EntSTSlash on 04/02/2003.  Archived at EntSTCommunity with
the author's express permission.

---

T'Pol sat at the desk in her quarters and entered her code to answer
the incoming communication from the Vulcan Exploration Ship Edana
T'rel (Logical Endeavor). She didn't show her surprise at being
contacted by a private on the secure channel, though she certainly
felt it. "How can I help you, Corporal Sarduk?"

"We are orbiting the fourth planet of the Bortus system. Our senior
officers went to the surface to conduct First Contact. They have been
taken hostage. Each subsequent delegation has been summarily taken
hostage as well. Logic dictates this is not a proper solution to our
problem, yet my remaining crewmates and myself have no further ideas.
You are aboard the closest ship to us, and we wish to ask you for
assistance in this matter."

"This is the suggestion of the High Council?" T'Pol asked, knowing
that the Vulcans as a whole didn't want to appear to need the help of
humans.

The young Vulcan on the screen flushed a bit, though non-Vulcans
would be hard pressed to notice. "No, the Council has not been
informed as of yet. We have been utilizing all available resources
before inconveniencing the Council."

"That is illogical," T'Pol replied, one eyebrow arching almost to her
hairline. "One of the purposes for the Council is to render aid to our
fleet."

Sarduk fidgeted slightly and continued in a softer voice, "Captain
Torak did not follow procedures and allowed the initial delegation to
go to the surface without a security contingent."

T'Pol's eyes closed--her version of horror. "Understood." Captain
Torak was on his last mission before early retirement. He was a highly
decorated officer who had the unfortunate circumstance of having
Bendii syndrome which slowly took the ability to reason away from a
person. The Vulcans felt the need to project an unwavering front to
themselves as well as the Humans and other species they had come in
contact with; Torak on a failed away mission would harm not only the
Vulcans in general, but a well-loved celebrity as well.

The features of the young Vulcan on the screen relaxed slightly.
"Then you will come."

"I must discuss this with my Captain," T'Pol said reprovingly, not
liking that the young Vulcan assumed she would bend to his will.

"Of course. I await your answer. Edana T'rel out."

The screen went blank and T'Pol took a few calming breaths before
rising silently and exiting into the corridor.

---

Captain Jonathan Archer looked up from the pile of work on his desk
startled It took a few seconds for his thoughts to catch up to his
reflexes. "Come in," he said, blanking his computer screen. He watched
as T'Pol walked in, troubled. Having served with her for over two
years was the only way he could tell the Vulcan was feeling any
emotion. Someone who didn't spend as much time with her probably
wouldn't have been able to tell something was worrying the woman.
"What seems to be the problem?" He smiled at her raised eyebrow and
expounded, "You seem troubled--you don't normally come in here without
an appointment." T'Pol nodded her head once, agreeing with the
statement. She peered over to the chair across from Archer's desk. "Oh
please! Have a seat," Archer said.

"Thank you, Captain." She sat down slowly and deliberately, folding
her hands in her lap before looking up to the Human she answered to on
the ship. "I have just received a communiqu from the Vulcan
Exploration Ship Edana T rel. They are in orbit around Bortus IV,
approximately one half light year from our current position. First
Contact with the inhabitants has not proceeded as expected, and the
Edana T'rel has requested our assistance."

Archer frowned and sat back in his chair, eyeing his Science Officer.
"Why haven't they contacted High Command?"

T'Pol looked down at her hands then back at Archer. "The Edana T'rel
does not wish to ... inconvenience ... High Command."

A glimmer of understanding dawned in Archer's mind. "Ah. So, if
they've done something they don't want High Command to know, why ask a
Human ship? I would think they would prefer to humble themselves
before High Command before humbling themselves to us."

"There are ... extenuating circumstances, Captain." T'Pol clearly
didn't want to voice the problem, yet knew that the only way to help
the Edana T rel was to tell Archer everything she knew. "The ship is
Captained by Torak."

The appropriate note of awe entered Archer's voice. "The Torak? As in
Torak and Tanek of the T'plana Hath, the Vulcans who first landed on
Earth?" At T'Pol's slight nod, he plowed on. "Anything we can do to
help him, we will." He smirked, "Even though they were the ones that
caused the last ninety years of Vulcan oppression. The man's a living
legend, how can we not come to his aid?"

T'Pol was shocked at the Captain's enthusiasm, but appreciated it
none the less. Now she didn't have to reveal Torak's illness; at least
not right away. "May I inform helm to change course?"

"Of course, of course," Archer beamed. He turned to the
communications panel on his desk and said, "I'll contact Malcolm to
plan this out. Oh, Mike too; no sense attempting a mission like this
without their help."

"Very good, Captain." T'Pol left, hasty to meditate; she severely
disliked feeling helpless.

---

They sprawled over the furniture in Mike and Rick's living area,
beers in hand, plates with the remnants of dinner and chips on the
coffee table. Some of the most intense planning happened in this
informal milieu amidst jokes, teasing and laughter. During the
mission, there was no room for friendly antics, so they took the
chance whenever they could.

Rubbing his now distended belly, Mike said, "OK, you guys have the
basics. How are we going to pull this one off without the High
Council, Starfleet, even our guys knowing about it?"

Rick leaned back against the arm of the couch, crossing his legs at
the ankle in Mike's lap. "Mind wipe at the end--that's a given."

Derek nodded, turning sideways in his chair to swing his legs over
one arm. "The Vulcan crew for sure, non-Senior officers from here
too."

Nodding, Mike said, "I've asked the Captain, Commander, and
Lieutenant Reed here to be part of the planning. Take my lead about
what we can share and what we can't. I know you guys will keep quiet,
but we've got to be judicious with what we reveal to them."

"Right, like the mind wipes," Derek interjected. "All they have to
know is that they happen, not how."

"What time are they getting here," Rick asked, checking that the time
was currently 1842 hours.

"Nineteen hundred," Mike said. "So, we've got a few minutes to figure
out how we're going to pull this off. We'll need specs of the ship,
maps of the planet. We'll need to have thorough dossiers of every
person being held, find out what we can about those doing the
holding."

"Once we figure out where they're being held, we'll need specs of the
building or set of buildings." Derek started fidgeting and got up to
clear the dishes from the low table. "We should look into possible
prosthetics too in case we have to emulate the natives." He placed the
dishes in a bin to take back to the mess hall before returning to flop
into his seat once more.

"Man, I hate that latex shit--it'd be nice if all we needed was a
paint job But no. Humans and Vulcans are like the exception when it
comes to foreheads." Rick sighed and drained his beer. "We gonna try
wiping the natives?"

"Nah," Mike said. "We'll be in and out so fast they won't know what
happened. But we should look into the technological abilities of the
people too--know what would be construed as magic, what they might
figure out, etc " He groaned. "Attention to detail, people. Nothing
sucks worse than getting into the extraction just to find you've put
on your black camouflage when the whole place is decked out in white."

"Yeah, you're not kidding." Rick swung his legs onto the floor, his
stocking clad feet not making a sound on the floor. "Anyone ready for
a refill," he asked as he stowed his empty.

"No, I'm good, though we should probably wait for our guests, no?"
Derek took a long pull from his bottle.

"They'll be here momentarily, so yeah, we should wait," Mike said,
stretching out along the entire couch.

Rick went back to the sitting area and frowned, hands on his hips.
"You took my spot, you booger snot."

"Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?" Mike asked, a malicious grin
spreading over his face.

Rick grinned as he shrugged. "Sit down anyway." He tossed himself
onto the couch, landing hard onto Mike's rock hard stomach, causing
the man to exhale violently. "Yeah, this is more comfy than the couch
anyway," Rick laughed.

Barely able to take a full breath, Mike still managed to heave
himself up and toss the younger man to the ground. Bent on revenge, he
didn't even flinch when the door chime sounded. He made note that
Derek went to answer the door when he lunged through the space Derek
had been standing, and heard the chuckle of the Enterprise senior
staff as he caught his prey by the ankle, felling him. In
milliseconds, Mike was on Rick, pinning him to the floor and tickling
him unmercifully. He kept up until Rick was gasping for breath, face
beet red, stomach muscles screaming in pain. Mission accomplished, he
sprang to his feet and greeted their guests. "Sorry about that--I had
a point to make. Make yourselves comfortable," he said gesturing to
the sitting area. "Beer for everyone?" He pulled a six pack of long
necks out of the fridge and passed them out before sitting.

Archer sat back in the couch, one arm casually draped on the back
behind Tucker. Reed chose to sit cross-legged on the floor, his back
against a wall. "I want to make sure of one thing before we begin,"
Archer said. Your existence is only known to this crew and Admiral
Forest? The Vulcan High Council has no clue you exist, and neither
does most of Starfleet?"

Mike nodded. "Right. We're listed on your crew manifest as security
personnel. Mr. Reed requested extra people due to the more frequent
than expected hostile encounters. You agreed, and Forest sent us on
out here. That also holds for the bulk of your crew. Only the senior
officers know who and what we are."

"All right." Archer nodded and sipped from his cold beer,
surreptitiously looking at Tucker as his tongue played with the
opening to the bottle. "T Pol asked to be kept out of this mission as
much as possible--she doesn't feel she can be objective, nevermind she
has to keep her knowledge of you from her people which is difficult
enough as is for her. I told her we would respect her decision, but
would probably have to include her on the actual mission."

"We'll keep her in the loop--as much as we'll keep any of the other
non-senior officers who end up aiding us," Derek said. "I just hope
she'll be able to follow orders blindly then in that case."

"She'll have to. She's made her choice," Tucker said, trying to keep
his reactions to his Captain to himself. "How do you plan on pulling
this off and still stay anonymous?"

"By paying attention to detail and involving as few people as
possible." Rick knocked back his beer. Stroking his mustache he
continued, "OK. Let's get this plan solidified so we can get to the
recon part of things."

---

Several hours later, Mike all but shoved the others out of their
quarters. The door had barely slid shut before he had Rick pinned to
the bed beneath him. Ferociously, he attacked the man, lips and teeth
tasting and marking the skin he found, hands and fingers divesting
them of all clothing. It was all Rick could do to hang on and enjoy
the ride; Mike tended to enjoy strenuous lovemaking, but this was
above and beyond anything they'd done before. He wondered what was
causing his love's temperature to rise to such searing heights, but
quickly lost coherent thought as the pleasure took over

Mike engulfed Rick's cock while his fingers readied him for entry.
The heat of lust drowned him as his partner writhed with pleasure
beneath him. He set his tongue to working along with his fingers, a
move which excited Rick exponentially since it was so rarely
performed. He came with a howl, his seed leaving his body so hard and
fast that it hit the wall behind him.

It was fast and furious, Mike staking his claim over Rick before the
younger man could even catch his breath. As Mike slammed into Rick's
body, he took up the chant, "Mine ... mine! Only mine!" He was pleased
and shocked to see Rick hardening again so soon. He helped Rick along
by grasping his penis and tugging hard, bringing him to full hardness
in moments. He held off as long as he could, praying it would be long
enough. It was. They came together with a loud holler and Mike barely
had the energy to roll off Rick before squashing him.

Between pants, Rick asked, "Not that I didn't enjoy that ...
thoroughly ... but what the hell set you off tonight?"

"I thought you were the only one that could do that to a long neck,"
Mike gasped.

"What are you talking about?" Rick propped himself on an elbow and
looked down at his partner.

Mike opened his eyes and looked at Rick incredulously. "You can't
tell me you didn't see what Archer was doing all freaking night"

Rick shook his head. "What did he do? We all just sat around and
strategized. I think we've got a solid plan too, especially once Derek
gives Reed a little advanced weapons training."

Mike sighed. "The plan is great. I don't see any snags in it. I'm
talking about what he was doing with his damned beer bottle!"

"Whatever," Rick said, exasperated as he got up for a cloth to clean
themselves up with. "If the way the man drinks his beer turns you on,
just so long as I'm the one reaping the benefits I don't care." He
quickly cleaned them up, tossing the washcloth into the bathroom sink
before crawling under the covers.

Mike joined him under the covers, wrapping Rick in his arms. He
didn't fall asleep thinking of Rick though. His mind's eye kept
replaying the skill with which Archer's tongue caressed his green
glass long necked bottle. He ended up waking his lover up twice more
to alleviate the pressure in his loins before the alarm went off in
the morning and he had to face Archer yet again.

---

Archer and Tucker walked quietly back to the Captain's quarters after
their meeting with the Extraction team. They'd waved goodbye to
Malcolm at the turbolift, and Tucker picked up the pace slightly.
Entering the quarters, Trip didn't give Jon a chance to say hello to
Porthos. Instead, he had his Captain pinned to the wall, burgeoning
erections rubbing tightly against one another.

Trip leaned in close, his lips scant millimeters from Jon's. "What do
you think you were doing in there tonight, Jonny?"

Jon feigned innocence, reveling in the puffs of air coming from
Trip's mouth gently tickling the five o'clock shadow on his lip and
chin. "Why Mr. Tucker, I don't know what you mean."

"Don't know what I mean?" Trip growled. He leaned in closer, tilting
his head down to bring his nose to Jon's throat. His nostrils flared
as he drank in the scent of his lover. He flicked his tongue out to
barely taste Jon's skin, moving from one side of his neck to the
other. "A little somethin' you were doin' all night with a bottle." He
tugged the Captain's head back and nibbled on the Adam's apple thus
proffered. "Specifically your tongue and said bottle."

Jon gasped at the barely there sensations which rocketed straight to
his groin. He thrust his hips into Trip's, attempting to increase the
friction. He sighed with frustration as Trip backed off slightly,
still pinning his shoulders to the wall. "I thought you'd like that."

"Like it?" Trip asked, pressing against Jon again. "You drove me
insane. You're lucky I was wearing jeans and not chinos. My ... state
... was kept hidden to a large extent. You wouldn't let up either."

Jon tried to capture Trip's lips with his own, but was reprimanded by
Trip pulling his head away. "You're the only one that saw anything,"
he said. I did it just for you."

The Engineer couldn't take it anymore, and pulled the Captain across
the room towards the bed, clothes flying with every staggered step.
"You don't think they noticed?" Trip pushed Jon onto the bed,
following immediately to trap the older man beneath him. "How do you
think I feel knowing they're all lusting after you now?"

Jon gasped as Trip slipped a lubed finger into him. He spread his
legs further, allowing him easier access. "No one's lusting after me
except you. He thrust his hips forward, impaling himself further on
two of Trip's fingers now. "You're all I want."

"I'm gonna remind you just how good you've got it, Mr. Archer," Trip
growled just before he took the Captain's mouth with his. He was
quivering with desire, barely holding back to be able to prepare his
lover properly. When Jon thrust up again, Trip couldn't hold back, so
pulled his fingers out and quickly slicked himself up before plunging
deep within the other man. They were both primed and ready. In a few
short thrusts they both came, biting back howls of pleasure. Trip
collapsed onto his elbows, barely holding himself above Jon. "Now," he
said, panting, "You're gonna show me just what that tongue of yours
can do."

Jon grinned and flipped themselves over so he rested atop the
Engineer. "Oh I plan on it," he said, trying to catch his breath. "You
forget I'm an old man though; don't know if I can go for it right away
again."

Trip's blue eyes sparked as he grabbed his partner's ass. "Old man?
This doesn't feel like an old man to me." He reached between them to
grab hold of Jon's hardening erection. "Old men can't get it up this
quickly."

Jon groaned and leaned down for a kiss. "This is what I get for
choosing a partner so much younger than I am. You actually make me
believe I'm young again."

"Oh, but you are," Trip said smiling. He trailed his fingers up to
play with the down on Jon's chest. "You make me feel so loved, so
special. I can't imagine being with anyone else."

Jon's tongue began its trek by seeking out and tasting Trip's
earlobe. "It s time for me to remind you some of the perks of being
with me then ... " His voice trailed off as he continued the slow
exploration of the Engineer's skin. He worked from one earlobe, under
the jaw line to the other earlobe. He tasted the salty dried sweat
that had collected in the hollow of Trip's throat. He lapped up the
newly excreted perspiration from Trip's shoulder. Took time to savor
the musk emanating from wide open pores.

Reaching the rock hard nubs of Trip's nipples, Jon played with the
sensitive skin, his lips, tongue and teeth working the nubs, reveling
in the difference in consistency of this skin compared to other parts.
He played like a cat, grooming his lover's chest hair with his tongue,
eliciting highly aroused moans and ticklish giggles from his lover. He
worked his way down, dipping into the sweet navel, having to hold his
lover's hips down gently from the natural thrusting the younger man
needed to do.

Jon purposefully ignored the straining rod jutting up before him, his
talented tongue instead tasting the Engineer's balls, rolling them
gently within the hot cavern of his mouth. He laved the super
sensitive skin between the scrotum and anus, reveling in the
incoherent noises coming from Trip's throat. He attained his goal of
the delicate pucker leading into Trip's body, using his hands to
spread the round globes of Trip's ass to make more room for his tongue
and face.

He paid special attention to the sounds and movements of his lover,
knowing that the time to allow release was imminent. Just as Trip
reached the pinnacle of his pleasure, Jon backed up, depriving him of
all tactile stimulation. He smiled into the dilated azure eyes that
sprang open and whispered, "Watch." Keeping his eyes locked to his
love's, he licked the precum from the tip of Trip's cock before
swallowing the entire length in one stroke. The sensation sent Trip
vaulting over the edge, the Engineer gripping the sheets below him
with white knuckles as he screamed his pleasure. Jon milked him for
every drop of precious liquid he could get before bringing himself to
lie beside the Engineer, stroking his chest lightly until Trip could
breathe again.

---

Lieutenant Reed walked into the cargo bay they used for targeting
practice. He noticed Derek standing beside a table which was covered
in a black cloth, vague lumps discernible underneath. He strode to the
man, and nodded, faltering slightly when beginning to address the man.
"Derek. Sir." Old habits died hard, and Reed had a hard time not being
able to call the man before him by either a rank or by his last name.

Derek grinned, his easy going, affable nature shining through. "I
know it's tough for you, but you'll adapt. If it helps, just tell
yourself that Derek is my last name or something."

Reed nodded his head once, a slight smirk breaking his stoic visage.
"Or something, sir."

"There you go again. How 'bout this. Anytime you want to use a rank,
or the word 'sir,' just say Rumplemintz. Knowing you, you'll fall back
on Derek very quickly."

"Perhaps snarklebunny would be more apt," Reed said, playing along.

Derek laughed outright and waggled one eyebrow at the Armory officer.
"I think I'd prefer snuggle bunny, but hey--whatever works for you."
He turned and took one item off the table, not revealing the rest of
the objects. With a flourish, he presented a phase pistol to the
lieutenant. This will become your best friend in the next few minutes.
Yes, it looks like the same model phase pistol you have, but, my
friend, it is so much more." He turned it over to point out the
controls. "Yours has a stun and a kill setting, as does this. However,
you'll notice this series of buttons below the ones you know. First
one's a safety switch. You really don't want any of these buttons hit
unless you really mean it. Second one here, cycles up the power so the
beam you emit is in the infrared spectrum. Ideal for use in targeting
in the dark and identifying certain minerals which may permeate an
area." He pointed to the next button. "This one will convert the tool
to ultraviolet emission. Not as useful as IR, but it has its
positives--if you know what an object consists of, you can charge up
the electrons and change the physical state of the object. Now, this
one is my personal favorite," Derek said, pointing to the next to last
button in the row. "This causes the pistol to emit ionizing radiation
in bursts between 4000 and 10,000 rads. If using the lower setting,
you've got to aim for an important organ. The higher dose will just
obliterate whatever organic matter it comes in contact with. Last
button here will have the pistol emit X rays. What's the use of that?
Well, we have special grenades we can toss--hit 'em with X rays,
you've got a bright light source. It's also has an interesting effect
on some organic matter--a strong burst of it can rupture cells and
soft organs."

Reed looked at the device in awe, taking it gingerly from Derek's
hands. He looked up in surprise. "It's not any heavier than the phase
pistol I use. I've rebuilt them myself--I know there isn't extra room
in there. How did you do this?"

Derek hesitated, debating how much was wise to tell. "This is one of
our special weapons. We're the only ones testing them out. Oh yeah,
report any bugs you find on 'em too--we know they're not perfect yet.
We've got access to technology that most people don't know about,
obviously. I'll have to leave it at that for now, but trust me, you'll
be amazed at the rest of what I have to show you." He waved his arm
with a flourish over the covered table then grinned at the Armory
Officer. "Once you get a look at all this, realize too--we're not
showing you everything. No, not by any means." He smirked at the look
on Reed's face. "You're gonna have wet dreams about this stuff for
months, trust me."

Reed shook his head, a grin spreading over his face. "I think you
might be right about that, snuggle bunny." At Derek's start, he
winked. "You said you preferred it." He looked back at the weapon,
going over the function of each button in his mind. Finally, he looked
back up at Derek and asked, Now, most of this stuff will hurt the
user. What good is a weapon you fire once, then die? And another
thing--why aren't we dead right now, just by handling something that
can produce all, those kinds of radiation?"

"That part you can know more about," Derek said, relaxing his stance
a little. "We're using a three layer shielding system, the outermost
being an alloy of latinum and lead. It' holds back 99.999% of the
radiation being formed and emitted by the weapon at rest. For
practical purposes--it's fine to handle, but I wouldn't rest my head
on it to sleep for any length of time--weeks or months. When
discharging, that's another matter." He blew out his breath, debating
yet again how much to relay to the Armory Officer. "The three of us
have internal devices which are supposed to block radiation We'll tell
you in a few years if they work--either we'll still be here, or we
won't. For you, we'll give you a special pair of gloves, and a suit
which should block it." He picked up the items from beneath the cloth
on the table. "I plan on having you practice with the weapon, so
brought the protective gear as well. Again, all of this is
confidential, and you'll be a beta tester of the material. If this
bothers you, we understand. Unfortunately, we'll have to exclude you
from the mission in that case."

Reed nodded, thinking it over while he looked at the remarkable
weapon in his hands. "I want in. I understand the risks."

Derek beamed at him, clapping him on the shoulder, "That's my boy! I
knew you'd do it!" With a flourish, he uncovered the table and folded
the cloth while Reed stared in reverence at the array of weaponry.
"With that verbal vow, I'm allowed to now show you more. You may also
find that after your time on the Enterprise is over, you may decide to
transfer to our department Once you play with these toys, it's hard to
go back to the stuff in general circulation."

Reed looked at the table like a kid in a candy shop. "So what do the
rest of these do?"

---

"I can't believe how much time went by," Reed said as he sat down at
a table in the mess hall, his tray filled with food.

Derek nodded, joining him. "It happens. You sure you're still up to
practice once we eat?"

Reed's grey eyes sparkled. "You can postpone practice, but trust me,
I won t be sleeping much tonight if you do. I need to actually fire
some of those weapons, see just what they can do." He had a tiny
shiver of pleasure thinking of what the rest of the night held for
him. Finishing a large piece of rare steak he said, "Ever notice you
need red meat when you've got the blood lust?"

"It's definitely heightened then. But I like a good steak anytime,
anywhere " He winked at the Armory officer, wondering if he'd pick up
on the double entendre. The slight twitch and faint pinking of Reed's
fair skin lent credence to him having picked up on it, and Derek
smiled. "So, which do you want to try first?" He lowered his voice and
said, "Remember the code words when we're not in a secure area."

Reed nodded. "Right." He thought some more as he chewed his food and
said, "The water balloon, I think. I want to see the range of accuracy
and devastation."

Derek pointed at the other man with his fork, a huge grin on his
face. "You my good man, are my new best friend. That's my favorite. I
even have enough targets for a good demonstration."

Finishing his baked potato, Reed questioned, "Now, that one doesn't
need special protective gear, correct?"

"Right," Derek said as he pushed away his plate. "Just don't shoot
yourself in the foot or finger. That wouldn't be pretty."

Reed shuddered at the thought as he stood with his tray. "Trust me,
I'm going to keep that puppy's safety on at all times." He shook his
head laughing weakly, "Probably between shots too."

Derek dumped his tray into the return and nodded, clapping the other
man on the shoulder. "It's the safest way to operate it. You really
don't want it going off unless you've decided to use it."

When they reached the cargo bay used for target practice, Derek
locked them in, only Captain Archer and Mike in tandem could open the
door by force now. He walked over to a concealed locker which he
opened via fingerprint and retinal scan. "OK," he said, motioning Reed
to join him. "We've got 100 pounds of this organic modeling material
on hand. It's not the same as hitting living flesh, but it makes a
decent approximation. The question is, would you like one realistic
shot, or several shots on smaller targets?"

Reed didn't even have to think. "Several smaller targets. I want to
see what happens with different kinds of hits."

"Right," Derek said hauling out the material. He split the large mass
into six equal sized blobs and motioned to Reed. "Different shapes are
good too--you'll see what I mean when you hit this stuff. Help me form
the targets. You don't have to get creative--we're going to vaporize
them anyway."

Reed nodded. "True." He took a blob and shaped it into a cube. The
next two pieces became a cylinder then a free-form blob with several
odd tentacles jutting from the sides. He looked over at the pieces
Derek had shaped and grinned. "Don't need to get creative, huh?" He
pointed to the one piece that was a pretty good rendition of their
Vulcan Science Officer.

Derek shrugged, "Figured at least one of em needed to resemble a
humanoid in some way. It's one thing to hit targets with this, another
to hit sentient flesh."

Reed sat back on his heels and took a good look at the other man.
"Bad, huh?"

Derek nodded. "You might get a good idea when I tell you where to
target that thing," he said, pointing to Reed's tentacled blob. He
stood up and placed a sphere of the organic modeling material on a
duratanium platform. Walking back to the table which held the weapons,
he was proud to see that though Malcolm was itching to get his hands
on the weapon, he hadn't so much as touched it yet. "OK. Before we
start. Pick up the weapon and tell me about it. Uses, limitations,
everything you remember."

"Code name for this weapon is the water balloon," he said, picking up
an ordinary looking phase rifle. He kept a light but firm grip on the
weapon as he went on. "Technical name is a disrupter, because it
disrupts the stability of cellular material causing a chain reaction
which will turn any organic material into a soup approximately 10% the
original mass of the object. The other 90% of the material, which is
usually water, is vaporized and becomes suspended in the air." He took
a breath and pointed to a button outside the trigger guard. "It is
basic to use, safety is here, trigger mechanism here. No special
settings for power--it's full power, full time. Due to the severe
consequences of this weapon's discharge, the safety is to be kept on
at all times, except during discharge at which point the target should
be fully in the sights and nothing is to be between the rifle and the
target."

"Very good. You remembered it all. The reason for calling it the
water balloon is for the result it creates as well as how it spreads
along organic material. You get hit with a water balloon, you're wet
all over the place, not just where you were hit. Same with this
weapon. And all it leaves is a little puddle." Derek pointed to the
sphere then stood at ease just behind Malcolm with his arms crossed.
"Aim at the very center of the target. Fire when ready."

Malcolm took a deep breath to calm himself and raised the rifle's
sights to his eye. Bracing the butt of the rifle at his shoulder, he
brought the target into focus. His right index finger touched the
safety switch, having to exert considerable force on it to disengage
the mechanism. "Good, it won t accidentally go off," he muttered as he
took aim again. He exerted constant pressure on the trigger, adding
more and more force until it tripped. A burst of green light left the
bore of the rifle and struck the sphere on the platform. The entire
mass glowed bright green for a fraction of a second then disappeared,
a puddle of steaming grey liquid left over. Malcolm looked at Derek
wide eyed.

"There ya go," Derek said. "Silent, no recoil, lethal." He turned to
the table and booted up the monitor embedded in it. "I want you to see
what really happened there." He tapped a button and a replay of the
targeting played on the screen. Changing the focus, Derek zoomed in so
the sphere filled the monitor. "Slow motion, each second in real time
is a millisecond of tape. This will only take like ten seconds to show
you." He hit play, and they watched the green light approach then hit
the mass, grey droplets immediately dropping onto the platform. The
light spread over the mass showing a hole in the center where Malcolm
had hit it. The hole was only visible for a second before the entire
mass dropped into the puddle. "OK, let's try some more."

With each target hit, Malcolm became that much more proficient in the
use of the weapon. With only one target left, he felt like he could
use the weapon in a battle situation. After each hit, the two men
reviewed the video, commenting on differing patterns and the extent of
damage. The platform was never harmed; once the grey liquid was sopped
up, it looked like new.

Derek placed the last target on the platform. As he walked back to
the firing line he said, "OK. I want you to do this one differently.
Overall you've been aiming for and hitting the center of mass. As you
can see, it's total obliteration. What happens when you hit a tiny
part of something? An example is shooting yourself in the foot. With
most weaponry, that is not a lethal shot. Yeah, it hurts, but you get
over it." He pointed to the target. "Hit the topmost tentacle right at
the very tip. If you go astray and miss the first time, the hull will
absorb the energy without a problem."

Malcolm nodded and raised the weapon. He understood the other man's
telling him it was all right to miss this shot; it was a difficult one
after all. He vowed he wouldn't miss. He'd just graze the tip of the
tentacle with a small portion of the beam. He made note that Derek was
behind him, no one else was in the bay, and a myriad of other details;
his pre-fire checklist complete, he took aim and fired. The beam
barely touched the target and Malcolm wondered if he'd really missed.
"Wouldn't that just take the cake," he thought. As he watched, the
target began to dissolve. Much slower than the other ones had, but
with the same result. A grey puddle of liquid on the platform.

Derek watched the Armory officer's reaction carefully. He noted the
smug look right after the shot, then the disbelief as Malcolm thought
he'd missed then the shock and awe as the target melted away. He
waited for Malcolm to turn to him before gently taking the weapon from
him, making sure the safety was on, and placing it on the table. "What
do you think that would have been like for a sentient being?"

Reed was visibly shaking. "Holy shit. The others were over so fast, I
didn t even think about it. The target wouldn't feel a thing. One
second there, the next ... not." He looked back to the platform and
shuddered, running one hand through his hair. "That though. That took
almost a full minute to melt. That would be absolute agony to go
through."

Derek nodded and unfolded two chairs, guiding Reed into one before
sitting himself. "I'm not sure you're ready to watch the replay of
that one yet. When you do, you'll notice that the reaction is still
fast, but certainly not instantaneous as the others were. Through
trial and error, we've found that a particular amount of the
beam--approximately 10%--has to hit the target in order to annihilate
the target quickly. Anything less than that results in the 'death' you
just witnessed." He paused and looked at the Armory Officer, judging
his mental stability at the moment.

Confidant that the man wasn't going to go ballistic, he stood and
downloaded the trials onto a PADD for him. With a few extra taps of
the console, he had included the live trials they had on tape as well.
Encrypting the information, he turned to hand Malcolm the PADD, to
find the Armory Officer had silently come up behind him and was now
scant inches away from him. Even as he chided himself for not hearing
the man move, he rejoiced as he saw the look of lust in Malcolm's
eyes. Keeping his eyes on the dark haired man, Derek placed the PADD
on the table behind him. A wicked grin spreading over his face, he
muttered, "You sure you can handle it?"

"I know I can," Malcolm said ominously. "Get ready to bottom though,
tough boy."

"We'll see who tops whom," Derek said before lunging from his prone
position into the middle of the cargo bay.

Malcolm was stealthy as a cat as he tracked his prey. He knew though,
that his adversary was a worthy one, as was the prize. He had spent
the entire day confined with this man and weaponry the likes he hadn't
even dreamed about. He didn't question the feeling that he just had to
have the man; Derek wouldn't be his first male lover and chances were
good he wouldn't be his last. All that mattered right now was
relieving the tension that had been growing.

Derek thought he'd up the ante as he watched Malcolm slowly stalk
him. Unlike the Armory Officer who was in uniform, Derek wore civilian
clothes--blue jeans and a button down flannel shirt. He kept his eyes
on Malcolm as he began to unbutton his shirt, eventually pushing the
cloth off his shoulders and down his arms, leaving his upper half clad
only in a thin white tank top, wisps of his chest hair peeking out the
top.

Malcolm didn't worry about his state of dress. Just as he could get
into his uniform in 8.5 seconds flat, he could remove it in about the
same amount of time. A state of partial undress would only leave him
vulnerable. He felt himself harden farther as Derek's physique was
revealed to him. He longed for his nose to be tickled by the tuft of
hair poking out at him, he wanted to taste the tiny nipples revealed
as hard nubs under the white shirt He knew he wouldn't get laid if he
didn't make a move, so he feinted to the left then lunged to the
right, grabbing the other man around his waist.

Derek saw the move coming and prepared by bracing his feet and
straightening his back. As Malcolm took hold, Derek twisted, bringing
his own hands down on the Armory Officer's waist. With a heave, he
held Malcolm off the floor and on his shoulder, though he let him go
when Malcolm squirmed and twisted enough to possibly cause Derek real
harm. Still, he felt this point went to him, for he proved he couldn't
be fooled by text book moves as that had been

"Playing hard to get, are you?" Malcolm asked himself. "Nope, I guess
he's not," he amended as Derek made a move. Derek came in fast and
low, but Malcolm countered by anticipating the movement and rolling
forward, hooking his legs around the other man's shoulders and
bringing him along in the motion. Quickly he turned around betting on
Derek having been winded. He was slightly surprised to see the man
beginning to recover, but realized that combat is what this man was
trained in; trained to a razor's edge. It was going to be fun making
him submit.

Derek chuckled to himself as he read the other man's emotions. If
Malcolm wanted to top, that was fine with him; Reed didn't need to
know Derek was versatile--he'd think the sex was that much sweeter. He
shifted as his jeans became uncomfortably tight. He wanted the man to
pound into him, but knew it would only be better the longer he held
out. He got himself into motion and quickly tore the white undershirt
from his body, his eyes being closed only as long as it took to blink.
Malcolm took that moment to make his move, just as Derek planned. As
he brought his arms down, holding onto the shirt, he flung the shirt
over Malcolm's head and pulled, drawing the Armory Officer tight to
him.

Malcolm couldn't believe he'd been trapped so easily. Since Derek was
taller than he was, the position effectively pinned his arms to his
sides, his entire body tight to the length of Derek's. He could feel
the blond man s erection through the layers of clothes separating
them, the knowledge he was turning the man on making him that much
more excited. He decided to turn the tables a bit and began to lave
the portion of Derek's chest directly under his mouth. He tasted salty
from his sweat, but sweet too--a something that was purely Derek and
was heavenly. As soon as he felt a slight relaxation from the blond,
he took his advantage and bit him not so lightly, causing Derek to
drop his hold and spring back.

"You fight dirty," Derek said. "I like that." He didn't give his
chest a look as he tossed aside his shirt. A very distinctive bite
mark was coming into view and would probably bruise before the hour
was out. It wouldn't be the only bruise given or received, of that he
was certain. Derek lured the security officer on as he backed toward
the platform they had used for target practice, "Come on, is that the
best you can do?"

"Not hardly," Malcolm thought. "I'm just getting warmed up."
Malcolm's eyes dilated even more when he realized the possibilities of
that platform and the blond member of the Extraction Team. The time
for play was over. He was going to have Derek, and have him now.

Derek noticed the change in the security officer's demeanor and
grinned to himself. The time had come to get down to the real business
of the past few minutes. He let Malcolm close the gap between them
before backing himself onto the platform which conveniently came to
just the very tops of his thighs. He didn't resist when he fell back
onto his elbows, Malcolm pinning him to the platform.

Malcolm took control, his mouth plundering Derek's as his hands
worked feverishly to divest the blond of his clothes. He almost lost
his reserve though, when he finally unearthed Derek's rod which, now
unconfined, pointed straight up in the air at right angles to his
body. He could see it throbbing, the tip an angry purple of a high
state of arousal. It was too much--his resolve broke as he took Derek
deep into his mouth in one stroke, the taste exquisite on his tongue.
He took the blond's sacs in hand relishing the weight of them, when he
felt them contract--the only signal he had that the blond was coming.
He sucked and drank as much as Derek could give, reveling in the
soundless scream of pleasure from his partner.

As Derek was coming down from his high, Malcolm checked his pockets
furtively. With a yelp of surprising pleasure, he pulled out the tube
of lip balm Phlox had given him for his allergies. He popped out the
roller ball which dispensed the gooey liquid as he unzipped his
uniform, then poured the entire amount onto his hand before slathering
his dick with it. As he slid a finger into Derek, the blond came back
to himself and couldn't help but giggle.

"I've never seen a radioactive penis before," he said looking at
Malcolm's now neon green member.

Malcolm grunted. "Lime flavored too. Too bad it's going in here
instead of your mouth." He kept himself barely in check as he prepared
his lover for entrance.

Derek groaned as Malcolm hit his prostate. "Oh, right there." Rapidly
losing control of his breathing again he managed to eke out, "My
mouth'll work just as well, but damn, this is feeling good." He
survived a few more strokes with Malcolm's fingers before he yelled
out, "Give it to me now, damn it!"

Malcolm nodded once, agreeing that Derek was indeed ready for him,
and positioned himself at Derek's entrance. With more patience than he
thought he possessed, he slid into the blond man, the slight tough of
menthol in the balm making both men hiss. He gave a fleeting thought
to his lack of undress, but the moment felt too good. He totally gave
up any pretext of taking his time when Derek drew his legs up around
Malcolm's waist, pulling the dark haired man to him that much tighter
and more powerfully.

Malcolm's fingers dug almost painfully into Derek's hips, leaving yet
another set of marks on him. Derek hung onto the smooth duratanium
surface trying to get the leverage he wanted to assist in the
stroking. "Oh yeah, that's it. Pound it into me, Reed. Let me see how
touch you are. Give it to me rough."

All rational thought left Malcolm as he took the orders to heart,
slamming into the willing body beneath him. The sound of the blond's
legs and ass against his uniform, the slurp of their joining, the
panting all went to Malcolm's head as he climaxed, yelling to tax his
vocal cords. He collapsed in a heap atop Derek, no longer able to
stand on his own.

Derek pulled the man's head up and kissed him deeply before crooning
with his southern drawl, "That British reserve is a beautiful thing to
see let go."

---

"OK, one last rundown before we land," Mike said looking at his team
as they entered the atmosphere of Bortus IV within the Extraction
Team's modified shuttle. "Travis, you just keep us undetected--shields
and cloak to full at all times. Jon, you'll be monitoring from here
and coordinating our teams. Rick and I will go to our target and
secure it, liberating hostages as warranted. Derek, you and Malcolm
will do the same to your target. Once it's known where the hostages
are, notify Jon. He'll contact the other group so they can pull out."
He swept the team with his eyes, connecting with each one of them.
"The entire mission is not to take more than ten minutes. Two minutes
to reach your target, five to infiltrate and locate the hostages,
three to get back to the rendezvous spot. If you have not found the
hostages, or they for some reason do not come willingly within eight
minutes, get out. We'll regroup and try again another day.
Understood?"

They all nodded as Travis landed the cloaked shuttle in a field close
to the two buildings labeled as targets. Once powered down, Travis
joined the others in the back of the shuttle, still doing double takes
at Malcolm who was dressed like the rest of the Extraction Team: light
grey body suits with skull caps to blend with the cement-like building
materials in the two structures. The hope was that if someone caught a
quick glimpse of the team they'd be thought of as shadows, not the
alien invaders they actually were.

Mike slung his arms around the shoulders of the men to either side of
him and watched as the rest followed suit. They all bent their heads
and he began their ritual request for safe passage that they performed
before every mission. "We are one entity; several working as one. We
will prevail, our mission will be complete, our objectives met. We go
now and ask for protection from all that is good and holy." He paused
then lifted his head. Once all heads were raised, he lowered his arms
and said, "Let's roll."

As soon as the shuttle door opened, Jon started a stopwatch on his
console and watched the four men streak across the field, two heading
north, two heading east. Travis moved back into the pilot's seat and
did the preflight check so they could take off the second the team was
back in the shuttle. Jon slid a pair of headphones on, instantly
hearing two sets of breathing; two men in each ear. Sliding the
microphone into place and pressing one button on his console he said,
"HQ to North Leader."

"Loud and clear," Mike's voice announced from the right side of the
headphones.

Pressing another button he said, "HQ to East Leader."

"Loud and clear," Derek said from the left.

Now all Jon could do was sit and monitor. The next ten minutes would
feel like a lifetime, each second drawing out into hours. He also knew
that the team was essentially using radio silence--the communications
devices were more for the teams to hear any special instructions Jon
had to impart than for sending back information. "East, your door is
unlocked, hallway clear. North, disabling the lock now. You're clear
to the elevator; two waiting on third floor." He heard one door open
and snick shut in each ear and knew they were in. "Time check, 2
minutes ten seconds. You're on target."

Jon didn't think he'd ever had this much adrenaline running through
his body Not during any Suliban attack, nor any time he'd been
personally taken hostage. He'd have to ask Mike about decompression
when he got back. Now wasn't the time for any thoughts other than the
mission at hand though, so he forced his mind back to his console.
"North, your two became three. They're waiting for the elevator. East,
you've got a group of four coming toward you from the west. Take
shelter in the next door to the right, or take out the group." He
heard weapons fire unlike any he'd ever heard before from both teams
and winced. He knew that some loss of life would be necessary, but it
still rankled him to hear it happening.

"East, target is three doors up on the left. North, you've got a
contingent coming your way from the east. Door may have been alarmed."
Jon strained to hear what the teams were doing, but could only pick up
shallow breathing that sounded like Malcolm's. "Time check, five
minutes forty-five seconds. East on target, North, you need to locate
your destination." Watching the console, Jon watched the biosigns of
the oncoming aliens change from healthy to distressed as a series of
weapon's fire erupted in his right ear. "North route to target is
free."

"Don't be alarmed," Derek said in Vulcan, the level of his voice
overpowering to the sensitive microphone. "Each of you stay silent and
follow us, we're getting you out of here."

Jon immediately contacted the North team, "East has target. Pull
out." He watched the east team move much more slowly through the
building to reach the exit. Having twenty confused Vulcans with them
was not conducive to speed. "Time check seven minutes, twenty seconds.
East, you've got to get those people moving. North, you've got
vehicular traffic outside your building--two vans with apparently
eight people in each."

Time took on an ethereal quality for the entire team. Each second
seemed to happen in slow motion while it also flew past as if in
double time. Derek and Malcolm were glad for the distraction the North
team gave them, but they were also frustrated at the lack of speed on
the part of the rescued hostages. Mike and Rick didn't know how they'd
get to the shuttle without leaving a lot of dead aliens behind them.
Jon's mind was split between the two, needing the entire mission to
come off without problems.

"East is clear of the building," Jon said, updating the North team.
"North, they're surrounding the exit. I'm looking for an alternate
route out."

"No time," Mike murmured, sounding clear in Jon's headphones. "We're
going through."

Jon heard a zap of weapon's fire, a brief agonizing scream, then all
of the aliens which had been storming the building disappeared from
his screen. What the hell was that?"

"You don't want to know," Mike said as he and Rick sprinted to the
clearing where the shuttle waited for them. They joined up with the
East team and hostages and helped shuffle the people along. Just as
they reached the perimeter of the shuttle, Jon activated the hatch,
allowing everyone to enter. As the hatch closed, Travis lifted off and
circled around the targeted buildings. Jon looked out the viewport and
saw a grey puddle outside the door where the North team had exited
along with two idling land vehicles.

After dropping the Vulcan contingent off at the Edana T'rel, the
extraction team's shuttle docked with Enterprise and the team filed
out, exuberant from a job well done. Archer grabbed Mike by the wrist
and asked, "Do you have a moment?"

Mike shrugged his shoulders in acquiescence, motioning his team on.
He hung back, still inside the shuttle and turned to the Captain. He
swiped one hand over his head to pull down the skull cap letting his
head breathe. Sure, what's up?" He asked looking down at his wrist
still being held captive by the Captain.

Archer looked at their joined hands then looked slowly up into Mike's
deep brown eyes. He licked his lips, suddenly nervous. How did one
broach this subject tactfully? "How do you... what I mean is... the
tension from the mission." He sighed. "Oh hell." He hooked his free
hand behind Mike's head and pulled him into a deep kiss, pushing the
team leader back against the wall of the shuttle.

Working on instinct from the mission, Mike returned the kiss and
moved his hands, shedding the Captain of the top of his uniform in
record time. Working his hands beneath the layers of cloth to reach
the hot skin beneath, Mike took charge of the kiss, thrusting his
tongue into the other man's mouth. Archer intimately cupped him,
rubbing him through the thin fabric of his body suit. The stimulation,
and the tactile awareness of the light fur on Archer's chest caused
Mike to moan. At the sound, both men looked up then sprang away from
each other, rearranging their clothing, the same words on both their
lips, "Oh shit!"

---

The End