"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 7.

He had lost track of the alien demon.

Which indicated to Merquise that Duo was with the Captain. Zechs cursed volubly. One moment the little brat had been snuggled blissfully in Yuy's arms. And the next, the boy was gone, leaving the usually taciturn Heero staring wistfully into empty space.

Since Zechs couldn't find the boy with any of the surveillance devices, the kid had to be in one of the blind spots Merquise had left, in respect of Khushrenada's privacy. Respect, or fear of retaliation, Zechs smirked to himself. After all, Treize was the Captain. And if he ever caught Zechs in his voyeurism, the fact that it hadn't extended to the Captain would be Merquise's saving grace.

His highly polished boots clicked against the decks. As he strode along, he reminded himself that their captive had done little to warrant Zechs' intense suspicions. Other than run riotous amongst the young third officers' libidinous emotions. Horny teenagers, Zechs had expected. But that the world-wise foursome could prove to be so naive, so readily manipulated by that little devil quite surprised Merquise.

He lingered a moment upon the brat's machinations with lascivious appreciation.

But Zechs had a duty to his ship still. It was his plan that had yielded a kidnapped pirate's navigator onboard. And the vulnerability of that scheme had always been in the kid himself. If the brat proved irrevocably a pirate at heart, then the Cepheus had imported a dangerous enemy. The fact that Duo looked so young and vulnerable worsened the situation considerably.

Zechs had to keep up his guard.

The fact was, they needed Duo to navigate for them, needed him now. But that would be a position of trust. Could they have faith in the boy, that he wouldn't set them up for a retaliatory strike from the Dawg Black Hole?

He heard them before he saw them. Voices emanating from the Captain's private helm. Treize speaking, smooth and rich as caramel syrup. With the sound of Duo's replies frothing over the top.

Duo, it appeared, was adjusting the Cepheus' course.

Zechs resisted panic at this development.

He strode briskly into the Captain's pilot station. Then he slammed to an abrupt halt.
Treize sat at his massive console, comfortably lounging in the cushioned chair. Duo sat directly in front of him, calculating vectors, his small fingers slipping adeptly over the controls.

Duo was sitting in the Captain's lap. The fly of the boy's trousers was opened wide. And Khushrenada had his large muscular hand deep inside, fondling with evident enjoyment.

Treize looked up at Zechs.

Merquise gave a brief, formal nod of his head. "Good morning, Captain."

"Good morning, Commander." Khushrenada extracted his fingers from Duo's pants. The boy completed laying-in the ship's new course. Treize then lifted him carefully and set him upright upon his feet. He refastened Duo's fly. And patted him playfully upon his buttocks.

Khushrenada smiled at Duo.

Duo grinned up at Zechs.

Zechs also smiled. It wasn't a particularly pleasant _expression. "Captain. Whenever Duo completes his current tasks, I need him with me, to discuss certain mundane, housekeeping matters."

The Captain waved his hand in a genial gesture. "We are just now finished. Thank you, Duo. You may go now."

"Bye fer now," the boy chirped cheerfully.

Zechs placed his hand firmly on Duo's shoulder. In the corridor, it became a fierce, iron vice.

"Oww."

"My quarters. Double quick time," Merquise growled, roughly manhandling the kid.
He shoved Duo into his room and locked the closure behind them.

"You will stop playing this game now. Else I will personally toss you overboard."

Duo smirked. "Dun think Khushrenada would approve of that."

"I'll take my chances with Treize. You don't believe I'll carry out my threat, do you?"

"Yer pretty slimy, Commander. I wouldn't put it past ya to space me, out of nothing more than spite."

"If I do eliminate you, it will be for the good of the ship."

"So ya say."

"Aren't you afraid of dying?"

"Can't say that I am, much. See, I gots this personal philosophy. Yer alive, you should indulge. Yer dead, who gives a flying fuck?"

"Not afraid of death. However, you are terrified of being locked in a stasis chamber. We happen to have several of those on board."

The boy shuddered visibly.

Zechs paused a moment. He thought to himself, dejectedly, "Treize betrayed me."

"Heck, it didn't mean anything. Just a lil' early morning frolic. Cap'n was only proving to me he's the boss. Like, asserting his alpha male authority, ya know?"

Zechs blinked.

Duo blinked.

"Damn it, yer tricked me."

"Oh, what a soft hearted little pussy it is, after all. Why you're just a sentimental pushover. Worrying about Treize and my relationship." Merquise chuckled luxuriously.

"Yeah, well what can I say? I'm a sucker for young eye-candy in love." The boy scuffed his toe into the deck, blushing for all he was worth.

"So, you can read minds. But there is a vulnerability there. You cannot discern sincerity, or lack thereof."

"Ah, no more nor less than if you'd said it out loud. But yer success at lying is temporary. Bound to be. Soon as you stop schooling your thoughts, I'll catch you giving yerself away. Unless yer a full-time liar, that is. Which I suppose is a possibility in your case," Duo sneered.

"You have two vulnerabilities. Sentimentality. And severe claustrophobia. I can make you toe the line. My line." Zechs grabbed the long tawny braid, pulled the boy's face close, and sucked down hard on the lips, forcing his tongue deep into Duo's mouth. After a long, enjoyable diversion, he concluded. "You will behave yourself. You will obey me. Now then, let us begin at the beginning. Do you have a second name? This is an important point, if you are to serve as an officer. Ship's officers must maintain a certain dignity."

First, a view of the stick. Then dangle the carrot.

The boy waited until he'd stopped panting. He wiped the slobber off his face with the back of his bandaged hand. "Erm. At school, they called me 'Maxwell', after Father Maxwell, the priest that took me in."

"Very good. 'Mr Maxwell' it is, then. Sawbones is convinced that you hail from the planet Traeskavelon."

"Yeah, and so does he, by the bye. Yer Doc is a Traesky, fer sure."

"Very good. It will be recorded upon Cepheus' logs that Mr Duo Maxwell, originally of Traeskavelon, formerly astral navigator for the starship Dawg Black Hole, has come aboard. What formal training have you had?"

"Uh, I was a cadet at the Air Force Academy, First City, Traeskavelon."

"Come, come Mr Maxwell. Don't make me drag your personal history from you, phrase by skimpy phrase. You are to be utterly and thoroughly forthcoming with me. Otherwise, there is a stasis chamber with your name on it, boy."

Duo shivered uncontrollably.

Zechs pulled him close, wrapping his arms tightly around the slight form. "There, there. Behave yourself, and all will be well. Just be a good boy now, and tell me about yourself. Why is that so difficult an assignment?"

The kid shook his head, causing the shaggy bangs to flop into his bright eyes, glittering mischief. "Right. Just remember, you asked for it. Here ya go, then. The life n' hard times of Duo Maxwell. Whatcha gotta hear first is, Traeskavelon's planet is mostly covered in wilderness. Thick and dark and cold, snowy forest primeval. There's only the one planet, and its hidden but good. Starships tend to crash there. Guess the planet just collects shipwreck victims. Some of them from Cygnus, or Cepheus, or Cassiopeia. Whichever."

"And some of them from distant Andromeda?"

Duo shrugged amiably. "Your guess is as good as mine. I've heard-tell some scientists believe that. The purple-eyed mind-reader demon folk might be aliens from afar. Or maybe there's just a bunch of mutations that got fixed in our isolated population. And we're really just another evolutionary adaptation of humankind. Dun guess it makes much difference, does it?"

"In practical matters, no. Carry on with your tale, Mr Maxwell."

"Well, all us wilderness folk are what the scientist blokes call 'feral'. Which I guess is a fancy way of saying, humans that live like animals. I reckon my mother dropped my lousy carcass pretty near to day one. Leastwise, I dun remember her at all. I was making my own way eating nuts, berries, roots, and small rodents, first I recall."

"Very interesting."

"Yeah. You could say that, if you dun gotta live that way. Painful if you do, though," the boy retorted caustically. "What ya wanna hear next is this. There's a black market in First City for purple-eyed slaves. Illegal, underground, but nobody does much against it, nohow. So tha's how I came to go from forest to city dweller. I got snagged by some delightful, civilized hunters, and sold to the highest bidder. I didn't much care for my master, though. Him being a nasty pervy old man, and all. So I slit his throat for him, one pretty, glittery night."

Now it was Merquise's turn to shudder.

"Yer'd best keep that item to yerself, Commander. If you wanna keep lil' Duo as yer pet navigator. Capital crime, capital punishment for murder on Traeskavelon. Just a little fine levied against pervs who keep illegal slaves. But murder gets the death penalty, see? Never mind if ya think it just might have been justified."

"I shall be discrete, I do assure you."

"Tha's nice. Now where was I? Oh, yeah. I joined up wid a street gang. Which is where I learned to speak, wear clothes, eat processed food and all manner of other city ways. Ah, civilization, eh?"

"It does sound like a considerable step up for you."

"And so it was, so it was. Until a nasty lethal plague came along and decimated the slum people of First City. Darwinian selection. Only the strong survive, 'n all that muck. Do ya reckon I'm pretty strong, Commander?"

"So I would judge. Pray continue."

"That was the point when Father Maxwell took me to task. Cleaned me up, brought me into the shelter of the church, tried to teach me the all-abiding fear of heaven and hell. But that was a losing proposition, and doomed to failure, as you might imagine. What sort of mythical hell could he invoke that measured up to my real life experiences? As a motivator, hellfire just never stood a chance, yer see?"

"Yes."

"But at least the old man was kindly in his own way. Which was a major shock to my system, I can tell you that. Discovering that such folk as you might actually like to meet and keep fer company truly existed. Nice, decent people. I could scarcely wrap my mind around that concept for the longest time. But leastwise, the good Father taught me a modicum of manners. Not to spit or pee upon the floors. Not to curse in every sentence. To use a fork when eating. To wash occasionally. To read and write. Man, I took to reading like a duckling to water. Good gawds, what a treat. The whole fucking universe, opening up like a spring flower in blossom. I couldn't get enough. But now comes the hard part."

"Only now?"

"Confession time. My mischief-making? It just comes natural to me, seems like. I gots to fight it constantly, else it wins hands down. I'm a troublemaking sinner, fer sure, fer real. Guess I ran wild for too much of my life, yer see? Father Maxwell just couldn't keep the leash on me short enough, no matter how hard he might try. So he figured some military discipline might be in order. That was the good news and the bad news, all at once. I got into the Academy as a charity case. And turned out to be damned good at yer maths and sciences. And battle strategy? Hell, I'd been fighting all my natural born days. How could I lose, yer might ask? Demerits, tha's how. I was just buried under a whole avalanche of disciplinary black marks upon my school record. Doubtful I woulda ever graduated in a million years."

"And yet, here you are," Merquise smiled, stroking his hand down Duo's soft braid.

"Yes indeedy, here I am." Duo nuzzled Zechs' alabaster flesh, then settled into the man's lap, with as much proprietary righteousness as the average housecat might exercise.

"We'd just had our final exams at the Academy, yer see?" the boy continued his reminiscence. "And of course, I'd aced mine. We were all in the mood to celebrate, to party, me hearty buckaroos. So a bunch of us cadets went out AWOL, drinking alcohol, gaming, whoring, and otherwise disporting ourselves in a manner unbecoming to an officer."

"Naturally."

"But hell, we'd just got through our damn exams. So what did the fellas do but start to drinking toasts, shouting them out loud for all the world to hear, in between guzzling down beers? Here's to Joe Blow, whose tongue's so very long, we'd roar. Here's to good ole Tomcat Tomkins, the planet's biggest hung stud. Here's to Duo Maxwell, the best damn astral navigator in the whole friggin' universe."

"Oh dear me, how very unwise."

"Yer got that right, Commander. We wuz drinking in a seedy tavern, savvy? A tavern frequented by ruthless cutthroat pirates, of which there's a gawdsawful crowd on and about Traeskavelon. One of their favoritest ports, yer might say. It being so well hidden n' all. So those blood thirsty savages just pricked up their pointy big buccaneer ears. What had they just heard, bleated aloud? Duo Maxwell, gifted navigator? Long and the short of it is, I woke up a long long time later, from the worst drug-induced stupor of my oh-so-young life. Only to discover that I'd been shanghaied. Abducted by pirates. Spirited away for my sins, to serve the rest of my days upon the Dawg Black Hellhole. The rest, as they say, is history."

Zechs ran the back of his knuckles along the smooth curve of Duo's cheek. "It strikes me, youngster, that you have inadvertently washed up on a friendly, temperate shore."

"I'm trouble with a capital T. You know it, n' I know it. Leastwise now you know where I'm coming from, eh?"

"Yes. Forewarned is fore armed, certainly. But truly, Duo. All you have to do is your duty as navigator. That shouldn't be too difficult, now should it?"

"Ah, hell. My intentions are always good." The boy shrugged cheerfully.

"Perhaps you could back off of stirring up my third officers for your amusement?" Zechs chuckled.

"Well, as far as that goes, Barton and Winner are bound to be a couple, sooner or later. You could put them at opposite ends of the galaxy, and they'd clunk back together eventually, never mind the distance. Chang's a happily married man. Maybe he needs an outlet in Yuy, from time to time. But tha's all right by me, how some ever."

"So, Yuy ended up collaring you? I thought he might."

"Seems like it, dun it?" Glittering purple eyes studied Zechs intently. That ultraviolet light beamed forth, merrily bent upon chaos. "So-o-o. Tha Cap'n and yer ever think about a threesome?"

Merquise held the boy at arms length, feet dangling off the deck. He shook him, just a little bit.

"What a brat it is!" the Commander exclaimed, shaking his head.

Trouble with a capital T.

And they still had to deal with the pirates.



~ * ~

Chapter 8


Back to "The Art Of Bondage" Index