Competition

part of the Waking Up series

by Setcheti

Disclaimer:  Paramount owns them.  They don’t deserve them, but they own them just the same, more’s the pity.

Author’s Note:  Will be A/T/R. Not related to any particular episode, and unfinished to boot. I have a beginning, a middle, and an end, just no scenes to bridge the gaps in between.  It’ll get there eventually.

Archer was upset.  Not just because his ship had been boarded and overrun, but because the aliens had been there more than an hour and he still didn’t know what they wanted.  It was obvious they didn’t want the ship itself, and they weren’t looting like the big-eared aliens from before had, but they were still obviously looking for something…or maybe someone.  They had closely examined each crewmember on the bridge but hadn’t hurt anyone, although Reed had certainly done his best.  The captain swallowed a smile; his armory officer had been highly offended to be handled so gently, if the look on his face was anything to go by.  Not that the near-pout wasn’t nice to watch, though…

The lift doors hissed and yet another of the pale green skinned aliens bustled onto the bridge, startling Archer out of his contemplation of his armory officer’s lips.  He had good reason to be startled; the aliens were tall, a good foot taller than anyone on the bridge, and although they had arms and legs approximating a human’s the thin limbs were spiderish and appeared to have at least one too many joints apiece. Enterprise’s universal translator wasn’t making heads or tails of their language, but the aliens had some sort of throat-mounted device that apparently did the same thing.  “G’mansh, I believe I may have found exactly what we’re looking for!” the newcomer called out excitedly to the one who was currently standing in the middle of the bridge and obviously in charge.  “In their engine room, if you can believe it!”

He handed over the oddly configured device he was carrying, something Archer had decided must be a version of the padds that his own people used.  The leader took the padd and raised two of the three eyebrows over one of his white-pupiled eyes, nodding slowly.  “Oh that will do, no mistake.  Beautiful, Rylket, just beautiful!  And look at those eyes!  Of course, I like this one as well,” he gestured in Travis’ general direction with one two-thumbed four-fingered hand.  “I don’t believe he’d suit, though; that guileless look simply isn’t popular on the males right now and I just don’t have time to train him out of it.  Pity.”

“We could put a tracer on him, perhaps come back in a few years to check again,” the alien called Rylket suggested, taking back his padd and looking lovingly at whatever was displayed on it.  Archer fought back a shudder, wondering which of the engineering staff had just been ‘selected’ and for what.  The thought made him angry enough to speak up again.  “You can’t just come on board my ship and start picking out slaves from among my crew members!” he called out, flexing his arms against the soft restraints that bound them together at the wrists.  “It just isn’t right!”

It was the first thing he’d said that actually got the leader’s attention; the white eyes widened with surprise.  “Slaves?  Oh no, we’re not flesh peddlers, what an odious thought.”  He stepped closer to Archer, looking down at him consideringly.  “You’re pretty too, you know, but too old.  I wish I’d found you ten years ago.  And this little dark haired one with the steely eyes would be a sensation if he were trainable, which I can tell he isn’t; ditto for the beauty with the pointed ears.  I believe we’ve found the true beauty on board your ship, though, and so we’ll be content with that one and leave the rest of you to your business.  I don’t suppose you’d let me put a tracer on the dark-skinned male there, would you?  Once some of the youth has worn off his face I could truly make something out of him.”

Archer opened his mouth to let the alien know exactly what he thought of that idea…and then an idea struck him.  “All right,” he said, ignoring the horrified look on Travis’ face and the disbelieving ones he was getting from everyone but Reed.  “I suppose I can let you do that.  It won’t hurt him, will it?”

“Oh heavens no!  Really, the very idea,” G’mansh huffed.  “Don’t try to remove it, though – you’d probably botch it and leave a scar and that wouldn’t do at all.  I’ll be sure to put it in an aesthetically pleasing place, don’t worry.”  He ruffled Archer’s hair – which startled the captain exceedingly – and then turned his attention back to his companion with the padd.  “Round everybody up and let’s get on our way.  We’ve found what we were looking for, no use wasting everybody’s time hanging around here.  Did you get the medical data on the one we’re taking?”

“I checked it before I came to you,” Rylket told him, looking very pleased with himself.  “I was sure you would agree with my assessment.”  And then he pulled something off his belt that looked like a child’s water pistol, pointed it up over Archer’s head and pulled the trigger.  The captain and his bridge crew collapsed where they stood, and Rylket began removing the restraints from the limp bodies while his leader bent over Travis.    

Half an hour.  Archer gave T’Pol a hand up off the deck and then plopped into his chair and checked the chrono again.  They’d been out half an hour, the aliens were gone and most likely had taken a member of the engineering team with them.  Only one way to find out for sure, though.  He hit the com button.  “Engineering, report!”

“Hess here, sir.”  The lieutenant’s voice was shaky as she answered him, and he breathed a silent sigh of relief; he’d wondered if Trip’s second in command was the ‘beauty’ the aliens had chosen.  But the woman’s next words shocked him to the core.  “Captain, they…they took Commander Tucker.”

This story is not finished.