The BLTS Archive -Hero Two
by Marie Whi Mitshue (DriftingPetal@gundamwing.org)

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Comments: THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO ALL YOU WONDERFUL PEOPLE WHO
READ CHAPTER 1 AND GAVE ME GREAT REVIEWS!!! YOU *SO* MADE MY DAY!
(Yeah, I am aware of the pathetic-ness of that statement. Sigh.) I
hope you guys like it.  //thoughts// *emphasis* (the more **, the
greater the emphasis)

Archived to the Web site on 07/01/2002.  Archived at EntSTCommunity
with the author's express permission.  

---

Dr. Phlox glanced up from rechecking his medical supplies for the
second time, aware of the underlying tension in the small confines of
Shuttlepod One. He looked at Reed, whose dark head was bent over the
auxiliary console just opposite Phlox, and then the Denublian glanced
at the blond-brown back of Trip's head; that was all he could see of
the engineer, since he was at the helm console in front of them. The
doctor shook his head at them silently, and turned back to his medical
kit. //They are both acting like the other is nothing more to them
than a shipmate. Even I can see that that's not true; there is
something between them, and the only ones who can't see it is them.
Somebody needs to give them a good swift thwap to the behind!
Humans!//

Reed glanced up, looking towards Phlox as the Denublian muttered
something in his own language, sounding exasperated and amused. His
grey-blue eyes flicked up and over to stare at the back of Trip's
head, almost unconsciously. He licked his lips nervously. He was
afraid he had given away something of his feelings for Tucker, earlier
on the bridge. First, with his reaction to Trip's closeness; when the
Southerner had bent over him and whispered in his ear, he wanted
nothing more than to lean back against his solid warmth, turn his face
back against Trip's chest. He'd had to fight to stop himself from
doing exactly that, knowing not only would Tucker be disgusted, but
they'd been on the bridge for cripes' sake! He was certain that Tucker
had noticed his tense, uneasy state. And then with his outburst--or
what passed for an outburst from Reed-- practically demanding to go on
the away team. Not because of his professional paranoia and concern,
but because of his personal feelings for one crewmember.

His gaze lingered on Trip a moment longer, then he firmly reined in
his feelings, pushing them down and struggling to focus on the task at
hand: alien starship, crewed with a barely known race. Keep his fellow
crewmembers safe and unharmed, assess the security situation, and the
possibility of threat, to both the Away Team and the ship. That was
his task, not staring and mooning over Trip Tucker!

Trip determinedly kept his eyes and attention on his console and his
piloting, even though he wanted to glance back at Reed. His pathetic
mind kept insisting that if he caught Malcolm off-guard, maybe he'd
catch some glimpse of the armoury officer's true feelings.

Then he glimpsed Malcolm's faint reflection in the viewport in front
of him. The Englishman was looking towards Trip, and his face was
emotionless, eyes conflicted and grim, like he was focussing on some
difficult task. At the sight of Malcolm looking at him so... severely,
like he could hardly keep himself from expressing his contempt for the
engineer, Trip had no problem any more with keeping himself from
glancing back. He didn't need a clearer affirmation that Malcolm knew
Trip liked him, and was dismayed by it.

The airlock shusshed open and Reed climbed up through it, and into the
alien ship, one hand hovering over the phase pistol holstered on his
right hip. Trip clambered up, tool kit slung over one shoulder, and
helped Dr. Phlox lug his medical supplies up through the airlock.

Reed scanned the area carefully in the automatic threat- search of his
calling. The airlock opened onto a dimly-lit corridor with bare metal
bulkheads, deck and ceiling. There was no one in sight, and no sound
or noise, except for the low, stuttering hum of a ship on emergency
power. Dissipating smoke hovered in the air, and it smelled of dust,
overcooked meat, burnt circuitry and wiring, and oddly, something that
smelled almost like cinnamon.

Reed's nose wrinkled, mind automatically cataloguing the aromas, and
noting that the overcooked meat smell was quite probably burnt flesh
and bone. Some of the Tellurian crew were injured, according to
Captain Derot, and some of them must've gotten caught in explosions,
or plasma ruptures, or something of the kind.

Trained to put the reactions from such thoughts to one side until the
situation was over and he could deal with them in safety, Reed merely
scanned the area again, with both his eyes and a scanner 'borrowed'
from T'Pol. She'd never miss it, and, besides, Reed wasn't taking any
chances with Trip's--with his shipmates' lives. But the scanner only
picked up the away teams biosigns, and faint echoes of what could be
Tellurians.

Tucker wasn't trained to ignore such things. "Uggh." He coughed, made
a face and said, "Doc, tell me that what I'm smellin' isn't what I
think  it is."

Phlox merely shook his head, face grave. "I'm afraid it is,
Commander."

Tucker waved a hand in front of his face. "Oh, yuck."

Reed was growing suspicious. "Commander, wasn't someone supposed to
meet us?"

Tucker nodded, swallowing, looking as if the amalgamation of smells
was making him slightly ill. "Yeah, that's what was arranged."

Reed gestured to the empty corridor with his free hand; his right had
settled on the butt of his phase pistol. "No one in sight."

"They are injured, Lieutenant, and this vessel is damaged." Dr. Phlox
said calmly. "It may be taking them time to get to the airlock."

Reed looked around again. "Something is... wrong." He muttered.
Something didn't feel right to him, but he couldn't figure out what or
why.

The hatch at the end of the corridor slid up slowly, recessing into
the ceiling, but stopping about two-thirds of the way up. Three
beings--Tellurians, Tucker assumed--slipped through the mostly open
hatchway, and slowly made their way to where the Away Team stood.

All three wore brown and green outfits, obviously some sort of
uniform, and had hairless craniums, patterned with brown, green and
black pigmentation spots. One had reddish-black blood smeared along
his cheek and forehead, one amber-coloured eye swelling shut, and a
second has reddish-black blood on his shoulder, chest and arm, but
neither appeared badly hurt. The third, the one in the lead, had
purplish-black bruises forming around his neck and jawline, like he'd
been caught against something, or been throttled.

The bruised Tellurian bowed slightly to them, as the two behind him
stared from Phlox to Reed to Tucker, looking nervous and scared.

"I am Derot, captain of this vessel. One of you is a healer and one is
an engineer, and are expected. The third, however, is not." He said
calmly, looking implacably at each of the Enterprise crewmembers.

"I'm the engineer, Commander Tucker," Trip said, stepping froward.
Reed tensed, wanting to yank Trip back, but he had no reason to do so.
Only  his feelings...

"And this is Dr. Phlox." Tucker continued, waving a hand at the
Denublian. "And he's Lieutenant Reed."

"What is your position, Lieutenant Reed?" Derot asked softly, locking
eyes with Reed. He decided he didn't like the look in those ambery
orbs; there was something cold and calculating about Derot.

"I'm security." Reed said shortly.

The two Tellurians behind Derot broke into swift, panicked speech, too
fast for the translator to catch, which Derot silenced with a sharp
word. He turned his cold gaze on Tucker.

"Tell me, Commander Tucker, why have you brought a security officer
with you? We are peaceful and unarmed, even if any of us were in any
condition to fight after the vicious, unprovoked attack of the
Nassicaan  pirates."

"Well, ya see..." Tucker began uncomfortably, but trailed off, unable
to explain Reed's presence without offending Derot more. He wasn't
even remotely diplomatic. He turned his gaze back on Reed and Phlox,
pleading wordlessly for them to help explain.

Reed shrugged. "I was not recruited for my diplomatic skills." He
muttered.

Phlox stepped forward. "Captain Derot, perhaps I can explain." He took
a few more steps towards the Tellurian and leaned over and said
something to him in a low voice, that neither Reed nor Tucker could
catch.

"Oh." Derot relaxed visibly and turned and said something to his
nervous companions. They both relaxed, and then one of them made a
chuffing  sound that the Away Team realised, belatedly, to be
laughter. The other one  eyed Reed, then eyed Tucker, then made an
amused sound, not quite a  chuffing laugh.

"Come, we have wounded and repairs to see to." Derot continued as
Phlox moved back to pick up his medical kits. The two un-introduced
Tellurians turned and headed back down the corridor, throwing
occasional glances  at Reed and Tucker and whispering animatedly to
each other.

Derot smiled at Reed, flashing sharp incisors. "You may stay near
Commander Tucker, I promise." He chuffed a laugh and turned down the
corridor.

Reed reddened. Did even aliens see his feelings for Tucker?! Was he
that bloody transparent?!

Phlox started after Derot and his companions, but Tucker grabbed his
arm. "What did you tell them?" He hissed. He glanced up to see the two
Tellurians laughing back at them again. "I feel like I'm back in grade
school, with the cool kids makin' fun a me!"

Phlox looked down and away. "I didn't wish to offend Captain Derot, so
I came up with the only explanation I could think of on the spot." He
said uncomfortably, although he was hard pressed not to grin. "I told
them  the reason Reed came along was because you two had recently
become mates  and could not bear to be parted from one another."
//There,// The  Denublian thought with satisfaction, //Maybe that'll
help them stop tip-toeing around each other! They need a good shock to
get them to see what's right in front of them!//

"WHAT?!" Reed and Tucker yelped in unison. They both looked at each
other, then glanced away, neither seeing the blush and panic on the
other's face because of their own reaction.

"Doctor, how dare you?" Reed growled, mortified and absolutely sure
Tucker could see that he wished Phlox's lie was truth.

"How could you say that?" Tucker added, running a hand through his
hair. He was completely, utterly humiliated, certain as he was that
Malcolm  knew he wanted him and was already upset. This would really
upset the Englishman! Was Phlox trying to destroy what chance Tucker
had left to retain al least a good working relationship with Reed, if
nothing else?!

Phlox looked at them innocently. "What? Do either of you have a
problem with same-gender relations?"

"No..." Tucker mumbled, "But..."

"I don't." Reed said firmly, "But there is nothing of the sort between
the commander and I." Both Tucker and Phlox noticed that Reed had
retreated behind his wall of British formality and reserve. //And how
it hurts to admit that.// Reed thought despairingly. //There'll never
be anything between me and Trip...he won't ever... want me...//

Tucker crossed his arms and stared at Reed. He was irrationally irked
by the Armoury officer's statement. His irritation combined with his
worry and certainty that Reed already knew of Tucker's attraction, and
the thought occurred that Reed was... mocking him, taunting him with
the fact that there would never be anything between them.

"Oh? I'm not good enough for you, Lieutenant?" he asked bitterly,
before his brain could catch up with his mouth. //Dammit!// He thought
in a panic. //Just because I'm an engineer doesn't mean my mouth has
to go at warp while my mind is still at impulse!//

Reed stared back at him, startled. //What the...?//

"I never meant to imply that you were somehow... inferior...or...
unattractive, Commander." He said slowly, "I...just meant...I..."

Tucker didn't want to hear Reed admit his dismay over his unrequited
attraction to him.

"S'all right, Lieutenant." He said hastily. "It's just the smell is
getting' to me. Makes me cranky. Come on, this is irrelevant; we've
got repairs to look at and the doc has patients waiting on him."

Derot was waiting impatiently at the almost-open hatch.

"Are you coming?" He asked irritably as they drew near.

"We are." Phlox told him. The doctor bent and followed the Tellurians
through the hatch.

Trip and Reed looked at each other. Then some of Trip's sense of
humour came back. He waved at the hatch. "After you, darlin'." He
grinned at Reed.

The armoury officer glowered at him. "Exceptionally amusing,
Commander." He said in a tone that told Trip he was not amused. Reed
bent and  slipped gracefully through the partially open hatchway, not
angry in the  least. In truth, his heart was pounding at Trip's use of
an endearment, and he wished it was for real and not just in a tease.

He sighed infinitesimally. Trip's irrepressible sense of humour had
obviously popped back, and he resigned himself to quips and teasing
over this for the rest of the mission. Quips and teasing that would
wound his heart as surely as any knife, even though he knew Trip
didn't realise he was hurting him.

Dr. Phlox made a pained sound as he saw the wounded Tellurians spread
out on the deck of what was obviously an empty cargo bay being used as
a makeshift Sickbay.

"How come they aren't in your Sickbay?" He asked, kneeling next to the
closest Tellurian, who looked up at him with frightened amber eyes but
didn't make a sound.

"Our Sickbay was depressurised in the attack, and our healers killed.
This is the best we could do." Derot said curtly. He turned back to
Reed and Tucker, who stood in the doorway. Tucker's momentary good
humour died when he realised Reed was carefully staying a few steps
away from him. His mood turned back to black and morose thoughts that
revolved around the other man.

Reed was well aware of Tucker's black mood, and it only served to
darken his own thoughts. "While Healer Phlox is assessing the wounded
for transportation to your ship, I will show you the damage to our
engines. We are running on emergency power, but that will not last
more than a seven hours." Derot informed them.

Tucker nodded and turned to follow Derot out into the corridor. Reed
didn't budge, however.

"Malcolm, you comin' or what?" Trip asked impatiently.

Reed ignored him. "Doctor, will you be alright here alone?" He asked.

Phlox made and exasperated sort of sound. "I'm hardly alone,
Lieutenant. I'll be quite alright." Phlox looked up from his patient
and grinned  that grin of his, the wide, mouth-stretching Denublian
grin that a Human couldn't pull off if he tried for a thousand years.
"Go on, keep the commander company."

Reed glared at him, but Phlox merely chuckled, that impossible grin
still on his face.

"Mal! Come on!" Tucker snapped.

Reed caught up to Derot and Tucker in the corridor.

"Don't call me Mal." He snapped back.

Tucker merely glared back.

Derot looked at them, face confused and perplexed. "If you are done
with your...mating rituals... the engineering chamber is this way." He
said hesitantly, then stared back with cold eyes as his statement had
both Tucker and Reed glaring at him now.

"Yeah..." Tucker said sourly. "Lead on."

Reed followed, as angry, upset and concerned as Tucker, both for the
same erroneous reasons. He glared at Tucker's slender, muscled back,
then blushed and pulled his eyes back into his head as they tried to
stare at the commander's firmly-rounded ass. //God!// He thought.
//Even in the middle of a situation that you know some things just not
right, with Tucker upset and embarrassed because he's been identified
as your husband, you still can't stop ogling him! You are so
hopeless!// He shook his head disgustedly at himself. He knew
something wasn't right on this bloody ship, he could feel it, and he
was trained to pay very close attention to such feelings. But what was
it?!

---

Tucker groaned and straightened, dusting off his hands. "Your
injector's fried. I'm gonna have ta crawl in there and replace it even
'fore we  can do anything else. I can do it now, I brought enough with
me to do  that, and then the rest shouldn't be too hard, what with the
parts and crew we'll bring over here."

Derot brightened. "Good. I will see if our main engineer is well
enough to come and help. I shall return." He hurried out of the
engineering chamber.

Reed bent at the waist and tilted his head to stare into the cramped
crawlspace beneath the Star Freedom's warp reactor. He straightened
and cocked a cool eyebrow at Tucker. "Have fun in there." He said,
just a bit too acerbically. In truth, he certainly wouldn't mind
crawling in there with him, pressed up so close to the muscled,
beautiful body he so craved, but he was sure that Tucker was rather
irked by the whole 'mates' thing, and rather displeased with him in
general right now. Hell, he wasn't much pleased with him and this
whole situation, either. //I know something's wrong, but I have no
proof of it. And I'm so tired of loving someone who'll never love
me!//

Tucker scowled, and looked up from rummaging in his toolkit.

"Look, Lieutenant, despite your evident problems with me, you will do
your duty, is that clear?" He barked. //I am so goddamned sick of
this! I know he doesn't want me, I don't need to be reminded every ten
seconds!//

Reed stiffened to attention, insult and anger clear in those storm-sea
eyes, if not on his face. "Yes, SIR!! I know my duty..." His glare
kicked up a notch, eyes a jumble of anger, hurt, insult, disbelief,
and other emotions that Tucker couldn't interpret. "... **Sir!! He
wasn't in any mood to try and interpret whatever he saw in Malcolm's
eyes, either. He was too pissed and frustrated, a dozen other emotions
chasing each other around and around inside him. "Good." He snarled.
"'Cause right now, your duty is to crawl into that space with me and
help to repair that damned injector!" "Yes, sir." Reed was in full
formal mode, although even that couldn't hide the chaotic whirl of
emotions ghosting in his eyes.

Tucker glared at him a second, then gestured silently at the
crawlspace. Reed, with an expressionless face, bent down and crawled
into the  cramped access way on his hands and knees. Tucker followed
him in, angry countenance cracking for a second as he found his face
only an inch or two away from the delectable sight of Reed's firm,
tight ass. He jerked his eyes away, and that little slip irritated him
even more.

They worked in nearly unbroken silence for a while, the only
conversation was curtly-voiced demands for one tool or another.

"Shit!" Flat on his back, Tucker cursed as the panel he was working on
kept falling down. It was on the ceiling of the crawl way, and he
couldn't weld it back and hold it.

"Are you alright, Commander?" Reed's cool voice drifted back to him.

"Yeah, just peachy. Look, get back here and hold this while I weld the
sucker back in place." He ordered, flipping over onto his hands and
knees and moving back from in under the panel.

"Yes, sir." Reed responded, and slithered back with all the grace of a
sleek hunting cat.

They tried several different positions (A.N. : Uhh... not those kinds
of positions...not yet! Sorry.), but you only could hold the panel in
the right position without lying flat on your back beneath it.
Finally, exasperated, Tucker ordered, "Just lie down and hold it,
Lieutenant!"

Reed glared, then settled on the deck of the crawl space, hands
holding the panel to the ceiling above him, legs spread with Tucker
crouching between them.

Tucker paused for a moment, regretting this already. Erotic thought
and images sprang instantly to mind as his eyes took in Reed laid out
before him. His body responded, and he closed his eyes, trying to
control his physical reaction to Reed's position and his own between
the other man's knees.

Malcolm was having his own problems. Laid there, with Tucker kneeling
between his legs, had his mind pouncing on the erotic aspects it
evoked. One of his favourite late-night fantasies, did in fact, begin
like this, with the two of them stuck in a small space, and Tucker
leaning over him, taking him... He drew in a deep breath, thinking,
//Control yourself, Malcolm. Don't get...hard...Bloody hell! Okay,
don't get harder!!//

Tucker opened his eyes, keeping them averted from the man spread out
beneath him. //If I don't look at him, so close and so...sexy...then I
can control myself. If I do look at him...I don't think I could stop
myself from...oh, what the hell did I do to be punished like this?!//
He thought desperately.

"Commander? Just fix the panel, please. It's...getting tiring to hold
in place." Reed said in a hoarse voice, lying through his teeth. He
didn't care about the panel, the sight and feel of Tucker so damned
close  drowned out all other concerns.

"Right. Just a sec." Tucker said. With the plasma torch in one hand,
he leaned in over Reed, free hand braced on the curving wall of the
crawl space. But that was just too awkward, his angle all wrong to
weld the panel into place. He shifted closer, moving up between Reed's
spread legs, so close that his knees pressed against Reed's inner
thighs, accidentally spreading his legs a little wider . He froze,
trying to remember how to breath as heat sizzled through him at the
contact.

Malcolm swallowed hard, aching at the feel of Tucker so close. //Oh,
God! Don't look down, please Trip, don't look down...//

"This isn't gonna work." Tucker said in a rasping voice. "Stay still."
Hoping Reed wouldn't get too upset, but figuring this was the only way
to get that fucking panel back into place so he could get out of these
close confines before he did something really stupid, he abruptly
moved. He climbed over Reed, ignoring the Englishman's startled gasp,
carefully avoiding touching or looking down at him. He ended up
kneeling over him, one leg on either side of Reed's stomach, only a
mere inch or two of space between them.

"Commander?!" Reed snapped in a rough voice, but Tucker just started
to weld the panel into place.

"Keep your eyes on the panel, Lieutenant. I don't want it to slip out
of place, and I don't want to slice off your fingers by accident."
Tucker said curtly. //Hopefully,// the engineer thought, //That'll
keep him from looking at me. If he does, he'll notice a very visible
bulge, somewhere near his eye-level. God, this is torture! All I want
to do is lean down and -// Tucker forced his thoughts back to the task
at hand before he accidentally cut his own fingers off with the plasma
torch.

"R..right." Reed said, voice odd. He shifted one hand to let Tucker
weld the corner he'd been holding, and bit his lip as Tucker leaned
forward, his body almost touching Reed's. Reed closed his eyes in
supplication, trying desperately to control himself. He opened his
eyes, and swallowed as he saw the muscles bunched along Tucker's jaw
line.

"Commander, are you...almost done?" He asked tentatively.

"Yeah...one second..." Tucker snapped, just wanting this done so he
could get away from the man he wanted. "There." He flicked off the
plasma  torch and sighed in relief. "Done!"

"Good." Reed's hands came down from the panel--and the crawl space
trembled and vibrated slightly as Tucker brought the injector back
online.

Tucker jumped, startled, and his head hit the top of the crawl space,
and he fell forward on top of Reed. With his face pressed to Reed's
neck,  the rest of his body plastered to the shorter man's torso,
Tucker really didn't want to move. And the slight bump and resultant
pain gave him an excuse he gladly took.

"Ow, that hurt... that was just the injector bringin' main power back
on-line." He said, voice muffled against Reed's neck. He breathed
deeply, smelling the wonderful, mind-melting scent of Malcolm, a
combination of the faint cologne he wore, the scents of his shampoo
and soap, and the unique, heady scent that was simply Malcolm. //Oh,
man, I didn't think I could get any harder...// Tucker moaned
mentally. He heard Reed clear his throat softly, apprehensively, in
his ear, and felt the sound rumble through the muscled chest he was
currently pressed against.

"Are you alright, Trip?" Reed asked, voice soft, nervous, flustered...
and husky.

That's when Tucker realised Reed's hands were on him, fingers spread
over the lean, muscled lines of his waist. Apparently, Reed had
grabbed  onto him when the injector had kicked in.

"M..Malcolm..." He breathed against the fabric of Reed's uniform,
frozen in place, afraid to move, afraid of what he'd do. Then he
realised:  his crotch was pressed against Reed's lower belly. Reed
would definitely  be able to feel his erection pressing against him.
//Uh-oh...//

"Trip...What...is...ah...is that...?" Reed said softly, voice halting
and rasping.

Trip's head snapped up, and he stared down into those grey-blue eyes
so close to his own. For the first time, he saw beyond the reserve and
shyness in Malcolm's beautiful eyes, and saw something there. He saw
desire in those storm-sea eyes! Could Malcolm ...like him?! Was that
why he kept pulling away, or getting all formal, or distant...was that
what was bothering Malcolm, making him lose sleep and weight: being
attracted to him, and thinking that he wouldn't like that?!

"Malcolm...if you're referring to the erection pressing against your
belly, yeah, that's definitely what it is." Tucker said bluntly,
hoping against hope that his guesses were right.

Reed's cheeks went faintly red. "You ...you're attracted to me?" He
whispered.

Trip nodded. "Very much. I lo..like you very much, Mal."

Malcolm stared up at him, and he didn't even protest the detestable
nickname of 'Mal'.

"I..." Reed took a deep breath, as Trip waited, getting more and more
nervous as the silence dragged on. Then, suddenly, Malcolm smiled a
huge, luminous smile. "That's convenient, Trip, considering I find you
extremely attractive, and I was wondering how to get out of this crawl
space without you noticing the fact that I am very much aroused."

Trip inhaled sharply, and without thinking, slid down Malcolm's body.
He came into contact with Malcolm's lap, and both men gasped as Trip's
ass rubbed against Malcolm's arousal.

"Trip..." Malcolm moaned, and the breathy sound went straight to
Tucker's aching erection.

"Malcolm..." He breathed, then leaned forward and pressed his mouth to
the Englishman's.

Malcolm responded feverishly, opening his mouth for Trip's passionate,
hungry kiss. Suddenly, there was a loud noise, from somewhere outside
of the crawl space. The two men broke the kiss, twisting to look down
towards the entrance to the crawl space.

"Commander Tucker? Lieutenant Reed?" A wavering, small voice called,
and they could see the legs of someone wearing a green and brown
Tellurian uniform through the crawl way's open hatch.

Trip stared down at Malcolm. "Shit. Duty calls. But, Mal, we are gonna
continue this when we get back to the ship..." He said firmly, then
hesitantly added, "Right?"

Malcolm smiled brilliantly up at him. "Too right, Trip. And don't call
me Mal."

Unable to help himself, unbelieving he was allowed to, Trip brushed
his lips over Malcolm's. "You weren't complaining about it a second
ago."

Malcolm's head surged up and the slight kiss turned into a swift, hard
kiss. As Trip tried to catch his breath, Malcolm grinned and said, "I
had other things on my mind."

"Tease." Trip grumbled happily and reluctantly slid back off Malcolm.
"We're in here." He called out as he began to worm his way out of the
crawl space, Reed right behind him.

Suddenly, from outside the crawl space, there was a loud, odd sound,
sort of like an overlapping angry growl and a frightened squeak.

Tucker had his legs out of the crawl space hatch, head turning to find
the source of the sound as Reed twisted to look, still a couple of
feet inside.

"What the hell was--ahhHHH!" Tucker's startled question turned into a
shout of surprise and pain as he was yanked out of the crawl space and
from Reed's view.

"Trip!" Reed yelled, scurrying towards the hatch as fast as he could,
being back on to the hatch and on hands and knees.

"Malco -!" Tucker's pained voice yelled--then cut off.

"TRIP!!" He shouted, dread curling in the pit of his stomach. He'd
known something was wrong on this bloody ship!

The armoury officer's hand flew towards the butt of his phase pistol
as a shadowed, contorted dark-skinned face and hand--//Not Trip! Not
Tellurian!// His mind screamed--appeared at the opening, some sort of
device or weapon pointed straight at the Human. He was just a fraction
of a second too slow. Even as he yanked the phase pistol from it's
holster, there was a bright blue flash from the alien's device, and a
sharp whine. As every muscle in his body turned to jelly, pitching the
Englishman face-first onto the grilled floor of the crawl way, phase
pistol tumbling from his limp hand and the world fading to grey, he
thought frantically, // God, that was a Nassicaan! What have those
pirates done to TRIP?!!//

He saw, rather than felt, the Nassicaan grab him, hauling him out of
the hatchway. Through blurred, greying vision he saw the outstretched,
sprawled legs of someone wearing Starfleet grey, not Nassicaan black
or Tellurian brown and green.

//Trip!//

But before he could see anything more, the Nassicaan looked down, ugly
ridged and fanged face creasing with a scowl as he saw that Reed was
still conscious. This time he didn't bother to use a stun blast. Out
of the corner of his blurry eye, Reed saw the large, dark fist
swinging in towards his face. Then his world went black as pain
exploded in his head.

---

TBC