"Pirates of the Cassiopeian"

Written By: Asymphototropic

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing.

Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the light, but never quite arrives there)

Summary: The officers of starship 'Coruscate Cepheus' kidnap an astral pilot from a pirates' crew. The new navigator proves to be quite a handful. Can he be tamed?

Warnings: language, violence, yaoi, bondage

Pairings: 2 x Everyone in the galaxy, maybe?

" Pirates of the Cassiopeian"


Part 2.

"Unknown ship, identify," their communications station whistled and whispered.

"Coruscate Cepheus, halted for repairs."

"Do you require assistance?"

They could almost see the wolf licking it's jaws in anticipation of the blood feed.

"Negative, negative. No assistance required. Coruscate Cepheus out."

The exchange was carefully recorded, documented, logged.

"Dawg Black Hole," Yuy muttered, studying those unique features he could discern of their enemy's vessel, and briskly calling up their schematics onto his comp screen.

"What a name for an interstellar ship," Chang grumbled.

"Actually, it may indicate a certain scholarly input," Barton smirked slightly.

"Oh?" Winner smiled. He was always interested in anything Barton had to say.

"Black Dog was one of the pirates in Robert Louis Stevenson's classic tale, 'Treasure Island'."

"You're rather stretching to turn that into a scholarly reference," Chang suggested.

"Perhaps so. It was just a thought," Trowa responded calmly.

"The input is useful," Yuy countered. "We should not make the mistake of underestimating our opponents. Including their intellectual capacity."

"Granted," Chang replied with formal courtesy. There existed an aggressive tension between himself and Yuy that had yet to be defined. However, now was not the time to pursue the emotion to a physical culmination.

Yuy moved to share a monitor with Chang, as they pored over the physical attributes of the Dawg Black Hole. Elbow to elbow, the two young men examined the blue prints, every passage and exit, deck and engine, helm and secondary command center, the vessel's virtues and vices. She proved to be a lovely ship, flight sleek and fight worthy.

"We've got a problem," Barton declared. "Having raided the personnel files, I find no mention of a ship's navigator."

"Strategic omission," Winner suggested.

"Quite possibly," Chang agreed. "Not a possession they would advertise to the universe. Ours may not be the only Captain willing to kidnap personnel to fill a deficit."

Winner stifled his gasp. To date, the foursome had not verbalized the piratical nature of their current undertaking. Chang's open acknowledgment shocked him.

Yuy ignored the interchange. With customary adroitness, he hacked into Dawg Black Hole's logs and followed their recent course changes. Long treks to the edge of the galaxy and back. Moves, swift and certain, utterly unconcerned with the hazards inherent in such vast astral journeys. "Either they have an excellent navigator on board, or their Captain is a suicidal lunatic. Otherwise, he would not choose the brash routes he has pursued."

"So we have a fifty-fifty chance of attacking and coming away empty handed?" Barton suggested. "Navigator present versus insane commander in charge?"

"Yuy's research strongly suggests they have a talented navigator," Chang emphasized his conviction.

"So it only remains for us to present Commander Merquise with a brilliant battle plan," Winner concluded with a harsh sparkle in his eye.


Merquise knew when the boys had their strategy completed. This was the case because he monitored his officers with hidden surveillance devices. It was partly a security measure. But mostly prurient interest, he chuckled indulgently to himself. After all, he was accustomed since birth to an elegantly dishonorable existence. Born to palatial intrigue and back stabbing, political maneuvering, strategic assassination by poisoning, cheating lovers' assignations. Coups and counter coups, constellation-wide. All of that was mere sustenance in his father's astral empire. Zechs had willingly distanced himself from all those nasty, writhing contortions. But sometimes he missed the thrill that went with it. Being sole lover to a largely blameless Captain sometimes tested his patience. Spying on his lovely boys eased the tension somewhat.

He studied their battle plans on the computer before they arrived with the hard copy. It allowed him to prepare his corrections in advance, thereby increasing his seeming-brilliance as a military commander in the eyes of his collection of bishonen. In fact, there were not many flaws in the attack strategy they had prepared, other than those dictated by the brashness of youth, a typically teenage perception of personal immortality. His lecherous grin softened into a gentler _expression.


"That cannot be their ship's navigator! He's far too young." An explosion sounded in the corridor. Zechs wiped the blood from his face, only to find he had more on his hands. Someone of their boarding party howled aloud in the distance, an animal sound. Whether of triumph or pain, he could not decide.

"Find me another body held in stasis anywhere on this ship, and I'll happily unplug it," Sawbones grinned at him as the deck trembled under their feet.

Merquise glared at the floating body. Slight and youthful, with an angelic face. Ass-length hair, braided and floating like an eel in the blue electrolyte solution of the stasis chamber. "Probably the pirate captain's favorite cabin boy. Just the person we most need to kidnap. Well, let's get on with it then," he gestured impatiently at the surgeon.

Sawbones manipulated the equipment's controls. With a lewd sucking sound, the colorful liquid commenced its exit from the clear sarcophagus. The boy's nude body shifted upon the ebbing tide.

In spite of the violent battle ongoing around them, Merquise found himself hypnotized by the view.

"You'll assist me." Now in medical mode and therefore in command, Sawbones brusquely broke into Zechs' reverie. The doctor peremptorily pulled his sidearm and blasted the locking mechanism from the side of the chamber. "We've got to get him out now, before he drowns. We wont have enough time to do this by the code. Haul him out. Upside down and hold him by his feet. That's it. Let me get some suction on him. Not much gravity to help, but better than nothing. Hold him over your shoulder and pound his thorax. Again. Good, now he's draining. Your jacket looks lovely, by the way. Electrolyte blue vomitus is definitely your color."

Zechs waved his hand elegantly. "Bah. Any color I choose to wear suits me," he declared.

"Quickly. On the deck with him. Dry his skin so I can give him a jolt or two. Good. Ha. There we are. Got his ticker going in just one try. Healthy youngster."

The boy convulsed, curled in on himself, coughing and gagging. Merquise hastily shackled wrists and ankles, then flung the slight form over his shoulder. His one hand absently stroked the sleek thigh nestled under a soft curve of buttock. They'd probably confiscated the wrong body. But what a delightful body it was. "Back to the Cepheus," he shouted over yet another glittering explosion.

"Indeed yes. It appears our assault may have gotten out of hand," the physician agreed with a devilish _expression that suggested extreme enjoyment of the ongoing catastrophe.


Captain Khushrenada skeptically eyed the view. A beautiful boy lying on their sickbay gurney, restrained at the throat, torso and legs with sturdy straps. "That cannot be their navigator! He's far too young."

Commander Merquise groaned aloud at this reiteration of his own doubts. "Possibly we've snatched the pirate captain's snatch," he agreed caustically.

"Huh?" a soft whisper, followed by a rasping cough. The boy's long lashed lids fluttered confusedly.

Studying his patient's eyes, Sawbones shouted his astonishment. Then caught himself, and coughed carelessly into the back of his hand. "Gentlemen. Our situation has just turned unimaginably more complex."

"In what way?" Khushrenada demanded.

"Your candidate navigator proves to be a native of Traeskavelon."

"Nonsense," Treize protested. "Fairytales, children's bedtime stories. You can't expect me to believe in mythical planets hiding on the extreme edge of our galaxy, tenanted by magical aliens?"

Zechs kept his peace. He hearkened to the doctor with utmost fascination.

"Look into his eyes and repeat what you just said," Sawbones directed insistently.

The Captain stepped to bedside, and reached a hand gently to touch the delicate surface of the boy's face. The eyes again opened, this time more focused. Treize gasped at his view of brilliant purple luminescence. The eyes absolutely glowed with unearthly energy.

"See for yourself?" demanded the doctor. "Call this a myth?"

The Captain allowed himself a reflective pause. "It is certainly unusual," he admitted reluctantly.

"Give me a few hours for some genomic analysis. I can estimate for you what percent alien heritage we've got to manage here. But I do assure you, with a strictly scientific assessment. This boy's distant ancestors came from Andromeda or beyond. Stopped to mingle and breed a few generations amongst the human stock on Traeskavelon, before returning to their own astral domain."

"Well, and what if he is an alien?" Merquise suddenly felt the need to vindicate his role in this situation. "If he was navigator for the pirates, what's to keep him from filling the post for us? He is here now, and here he must remain. After all, we can't offer him back to the Dawg Black Hole, now can we?"

"Your pardon, sir." The doctor raised a satirical eyebrow. "However, you have no idea what sort of devil we've imported aboard. Only time will tell us that. You might want to consider spacing him before he fully recovers."

Khushrenada shuddered at the hideous notion. Toss this poor innocent little thing overboard to die? Never. "Certainly not," he exclaimed indignantly. "Don't even say such things in jest."

Sawbones had been born on Traeskavelon. As a native of that mysterious place, which lurked on the very edge of their galaxy, poised on the brink of unexplored space, he recognized the alien danger when it looked him in the eyes.

"I wasn't joking," Sawbones protested in an undertone, but commenced tending his patient in earnest, under his officer's intense scrutiny.

It did not keep him from shaking his head with silent misgiving.

~ * ~

Chapter 3

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