Shuttle Trip, Day 10


THE THREE BATTLES

By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
Artwork (c) 2002 by Eduardo. All Rights Reserved.

Illustration of The Long Shuttle Trip, #10

DAY TEN
.
Paris awoke to find himself being kissed fervently by Chakotay. While a welcome way to wake up, it startled him. This wasn't seeking of solace and comfort, Chakotay wasn't crying, he was kissing Paris hard, demandingly. Paris had no idea of the time and didn't particularly care. He reached for Chakotay and kissed him back just as hard and Chakotay's hands ran over his body, touching him in all the familiar places, he reciprocated and Chakotay moved quickly and Paris found his cock engulfed.

First time he'd ever been on the receiving end of the grab-and-fuck! He found it rather intimidating. Chakotay slurped on him hard, slathering his cock until it was a moist-sounding shaft of shiny manhood, then Chakotay climbed atop him to fumble the slick rod into his body. With no delicacy, with only raw need, Paris found himself ridden by a hungry man while still half-asleep and bleary-eyed. Jeez!

He lay still while Chakotay did all the work, pumping himself up and down with rapid, deep motions. If Chakotay wasn't doing the fucking himself, Paris would have called this a rape, it was so violent and rough. He had to admit it to himself; it turned him on, being used like this!

He tried to hunch upwards into Chakotay, but it seemed to spoil the rhythm, he lay still once again and just enjoyed it while his passion built up more and more, until his breath, still inadequately toned up for the day, drew in more and more ragged breaths, until he was gasping for air, groaning and his cock exploded upwards into Chakotay, a steaming hot burst that dribbled back down his shaft, coating him with fire, searing his balls with the heat of spent desire, and he expended himself, lay flaccid and limp beneath his dark lover.

Chakotay held still for a moment after Paris was done, and then he shifted forward on Paris' body and Paris found Chakotay's cock shoved at his face. "Suck it!" he ordered.

Paris took a few deep breaths to prepare his body and Chakotay snarled, grabbed his head and shoved his cock into Paris' mouth. Paris gagged, choked at the sheer ferocity of the action, so unlike Chakotay's gentle nature which was more responsive than aggressive. It was like he was a man possessed this morning!

Well, he owed it to Chakotay, all the times he had been the rutting dog atop Chakotay's willing body. Turnabout is fair play, and about time he got a dose of what it felt like to try to satisfy the raging beast of sex. He worked up his saliva as well as he could while Chakotay's cock slid in and out of his still-dry mouth, jabbing at the back of his throat. After a time, he had enough spit to begin to accommodate this thrusting prong, he began to milk at the jabbing shaft as it plunged in and out of him, until it grew hot in his mouth, fiery, painfully hot, searing his tender lips, and Chakotay groaned, grabbed his head hard and pumped him like some inanimate object he was fucking, and Paris felt the burst of hot jism as it poured into his mouth in a flood of slimy goo that oozed down his throat and trickled out of his mouth at the corners.

His climax done, Chakotay still held Paris tightly to his groin, and Paris began to struggle, not fiercely, but in the squirming way that says, let go! Chakotay did let go, slid down beside him, and Paris scooted slightly away and managed the happy smile of satiated lust. "Whoof! Chakotay, that was something else!"

"Roll over!" Chakotay said.

"Huh?"

"Roll over onto your side. No the other way!" he snapped as Paris bewilderedly complied. Paris ended up facing away from Chakotay, toward the front of the shuttle, and he heard some shlorping noises, and then Chakotay's finger, slicked up with warm, greasy moisture, jabbed at his asshole!

"Hooh! Chakotay, I...."

"Shut up!" Chakotay said. "Just lay there and take it!"

Paris did, while Chakotay, showing none of the gentle motions that had made Paris' initiation such a wonderful experience, shoved his index finger into Paris to the base, and he began to wiggle it around like that, finding the prostate and stroking it roughly with the ball of his finger.

Paris grunted, partly in pleasure and partly in pain, and tried to enjoy this rough handling. Reminded himself that he had done as much to Chakotay not so long ago. The way he had jammed into Chakotay's ass with only a bit of lubrication and no preparation....

A second finger forced itself in to join the first and Paris grunted, "Ouch!"

"Quiet!" Chakotay said. The alarm went off and Chakotay said, "Computer, turn off alarm. Run program Chakotay Alpha Six Four Seven Five Three."

"Password?"

"Maquis Eight Alpha Eleven."

"Acknowledged."

"What does that do?" Paris grunted as Chakotay began again to probe deeply inside Paris.

"Means the Captain can't contact us." Chakotay said. "Can't even use her command override. We're alone here until I turn it off."

"Chakotay, do you think...." Paris' voice was cut off as Chakotay's hand muffled his mouth.

"You're not going anywhere until I get done with you." he said, and there was a fierce burning in his eyes, and there was none of Chakotay inside that look anywhere. Paris became frightened. He turned onto his stomach and Chakotay added a third finger to the probe of his ass.

"Computer, scan the shuttle for alien life forms." he grunted as his asshole was stretched to its limit.

"Scan negative for alien life forms."

"Scan Chakotay's mental processes and compare to past medical records." Paris said in despair.

"I'm fine, Tom." Chakotay said. "I just want some time to fuck you silly again and again and again."

"Mental processes negative for alien control. Compared to past records, his state is one of agitation, stress and a strong conscious control."

"Turn off that damned thing and get ready to be fucked!" Chakotay said roughly.

How could he manage it again so soon? Paris moaned to himself as he heard Chakotay hawking spit, presumably coating his cock with it. How far did he let this go before stopping it?

Chakotay's cock slid into him and Paris groaned. He'd been prepped, but inadequately, for this fleshy invader, his asshole burned with pain. Chakotay didn't pause as Paris's asshole clamped tight in an effort to stop him, he pushed in by brute force and impaled Paris to the very limit.

As Chakotay's hips slapped his buttocks with each thrust into his body, Paris groaned and tried to think. His mental state? God, he ought to be a wreck after the news of yesterday. How could he have turned his pain into this raw sexual energy? God, with that cock plunging in and out of him, it was hard to even think!

That was it! Chakotay's words of the night before. "I don't want to think right now!" He wasn't thinking!

His butt felt bruised from the sheer raw energy of Chakotay's brutal fucking of his ass. Paris groaned and gave up struggling, let Chakotay fuck his ass as hard as he wanted to, concentrated on enduring it, letting it go through and over him. After a time, it was an event happening to someone else. He had achieved detachment.

When Chakotay grunted, groaned, and squirted into him, a much lessened flow and then fell atop him, sweat pouring from his body, Paris moved quickly. He pulled away from Chakotay and got to his feet, and when Chakotay tried to reach for him again, to grab his cock, Paris dodged and dived to the attack, pinning Chakotay's arms quickly. Not expecting the attack, Chakotay was soon helpless. "I'm sorry, Tom." he panted. "Your turn now. Come on, fuck me hard."

"No." Paris said. "Enough, Chakotay. End it now."

Chakotay looked at him with glazed, half-comprehending eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You can't keep this up forever. And even if you could, I can't. You have to face your pain some other way."

"Tom, I...."

"Shh!" Paris said, then kissed him quickly, not with passion, but to simply end the sentence. "You don't have to do this. Not with me." he said.

"Tom, if I got a little carried away."

"I don't mean that." Paris said. "Chakotay, you lost your family yesterday. Today you don't want to think about that. You'll do anything not to think about that. I understand. But that isn't going to make it any easier."

"Tom...."

"No!" Paris said sternly. "No more hiding from it. You have to face it. I'm here for you, Chakotay. I'm right here for you."

Chakotay lay there, struggling for a time, but Paris held him fast. When he stopped struggling, when the tears welled up in his eyes, Paris knew it was over and he let Chakotay go and embraced him instead, holding him tight. "I'm all alone." Chakotay mumbled onto his shoulder. "I'm all alone."

"No, you're not." Paris said. "You've got me, and you've got all of your friends on Voyager and back in the Maquis. You're not alone."

"But my family is gone. All of them."

"Not all of them." Paris said. Chakotay looked at him. "You've got me. I'm your family now. And so is the Captain, and B'Elanna, and Harry and Tuvok and Seven and all the bridge crew. We all need you and depend on you, and you can depend on us. We're your family."

Chakotay held him tight for a time, not crying, but holding on still, like a child clinging to its parent; Paris reciprocated by keeping it the loving hold of a father, and after a time, Chakotay said quietly, "God, Tom, how can you put up with me? This entire trip, I've been nothing but an emotional wreck, first with Robert and now with this."

"If you think that your pain is the only thing you've shown to me on this trip, you sadly underestimate yourself." Paris said earnestly. "You've been many other things to me these last days, my friend, my lover, my confidante. You've let me attack you like an animal more than once, and I have just found out how much you have to give up yourself to let that happen. So don't think that for one moment I see you as an emotional cripple."

"Thank you, Tom." Chakotay hugged him tight, and then Paris felt him tighten in his arms.

"What is it?"

"The time. 0758. We'd better get moving, or the Captain is going to learn about the Maquis safeguards I've slipped into the computer systems of Voyager over the last four years."

"There's more of them?" Paris asked as they got to their feet and dug out their clothing.

"All over the ship and these shuttles. Computer, cancel program Chakotay Alpha Six Four Seven Five Three."

"Password?"

"Maquis Six Delta Fifty-six."

"Acknowledged."

Paris pulled on his boots and made it over to the front console, just ahead of Chakotay. The screen lit as they slid into position. "Good morning, Captain." he said.

"Good morning, Lieutenant, Commander." Janeway said. Seeing them with their hair in disarray and clothing inadequately adjusted, her eagle eyes showed concern. "Are you two ready to begin work today?"

"Of course, Captain." Chakotay said.

"Ready to receive the messages from Voyager for relay back to the Alpha Quadrant." Paris said, informing Chakotay as he acknowledged their duties.

Chakotay looked at him, and then moved to press the buttons. "Send when ready."

"Send your own over so we can compress into a data dump." Janeway said. "You said you'd have one, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Captain. Sending to Voyager now." Paris pushed the buttons to send his message to Aunt Matilda.

"I'll need to check it for Federation censors." Janeway said. "Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, but not necessary." Paris said. "I didn't talk about anything but personal matters, and the message is going to my Aunt Matilda. You remember her, Captain?"

"I do, indeed." Janeway smiled. "Is she all right?"

"Still breaks into Starfleet security systems all the time." Paris nodded. "Apparently she can still outsmart their programmers regularly."

Janeway laughed. "In that case I won't bother. She'd pull the uncensored message off the system in no time, and the Cardassians will never get a thing out of her. Send to us and we'll compress and send the data dump. Voyager out."

"I definitely want to meet your Aunt Matilda." Chakotay said. "Anyone who can break into Starfleet security is worth knowing."

"Well, the Maquis are always welcome at her house." Paris agreed. "And speaking of breaking into computer systems, how did you manage to override the Captain's command codes?"

"Who's the senior Engineer aboard Voyager?"

"Oh!" Paris said. B'Elanna! "But don't you trust the Captain's word?"

"Sure, but you always need an escape plan. What if an Admiral beamed aboard the ship and took command and ordered us placed under arrest? And besides, if we do have to leave Voyager, I want a clear trail of how we got away that doesn't lead right into the Captain's lap. She can swear that we got away despite her following orders with a clear conscience and so can the rest of the crew."

"I'm glad to hear it." Paris said. "Though the news made it look like the Maquis and the Federation are in temporary agreement."

"We got sold out by the Federation in the past." Chakotay said. "We aren't going to forget that quickly."

Beep!

"Data dump ready. Shall I call the Kepler or will you?" Paris asked.

"Why not Potemkin?"

"Left to join a battle fleet. They promised to send someone back at the right time if they can't come themselves. Something else I learned after you were out of it last night."

"All right." Chakotay said. "I'll call the Kepler, you get the data dump all set to relay."

"Aye, aye." Paris said.

"Voyager shuttle calling the Kepler." Chakotay said. "Respond, please."

A face appeared on the screen, young and handsome, black-haired, straight-jawed, somewhat intense-looking. "Captain Parlane here." he said. "Greetings, Commander."

"Please prepare to receive data dump. Personal messages from Voyager crewmembers."

"Ready to receive."

"Sending." Paris said. "Relay complete."

"Received."

"Thank you, Captain Parlane."

"Johannes Kepler out."

"That was quick." Paris commented. "Now what?"

"Plenty of news still to read over." Chakotay said. "Right after breakfast. My turn to fetch it."

"I want a shower first." Paris said. "I'm still a little, uh, sticky."

"Shame you can't share a sonic shower."

"Yeah, but who'd want to." Paris said. "When we get back on Voyager, we'll spring some rations for an actual hot-water shower and enjoy it."

"You don't like the transporter method?" Chakotay smirked.

"I keep waiting for the damned thing to beam all of me into space, not just my dead skin cells. Water is all recycled anyway, why can't they give us a proper shower?"

"They do. For a price."

"Yeah." Paris said as he stripped nude. Laying his clothes on the bed, he started to step towards the bath area.

Hooh-hooh!

Paris didn't turn around. "Hello again, Captain." he sighed.

"So sorry, Mr. Paris."

"Computer, cut visual communication." Chakotay said. "All clear, Tom."

"Thanks." Paris turned around.

"Am I interrupting something?" came Janeway's voice.

"Only a shower by the Lieutenant. And I need to fix us breakfast." Chakotay said. "We woke up a bit late this morning."

"So I gathered. Go ahead, I only called to speak with you personally. Are you all right, Chakotay? We heard the news and I wanted to say how sorry I am you found out as you did."

"I'm all right, Captain." Chakotay said as Paris stepped in the shower. "Tom has helped me through the worst of it. It would have been a lot rougher without him to lean on."

Paris activated the shower, and the drone of the sonic shower drowned out the voices. Another detriment to the sonic shower, with that whine you can't even sing in the shower! He felt like singing! Each day he and Chakotay grew closer and closer together. He wouldn't be alone when he got back to Voyager, not any more. He'd have someone to share the long days with, when the holodeck palled and the chatter became inane and boring, he could bid them adieu and go back to his quarters with his new love.

Time to hold his breath and close his eyes. Ooh, he hated this part! Would he and Chakotay share the Commander's quarters? Made sense. They might be able to kick out the unfortunate Ensign on either side and expand the quarters to proper married-couple size. There you go thinking marriage again, Tom Paris. Still impetuous. Thank God's that's over, exhale! Well, a couple is a couple with or without the vow, they would still get to increase the quarter's size. Have to think what he would want to get rid of and how when he moved.

Shower over, he stepped out and found breakfast nearly ready. "Go ahead and dress, Tom." Chakotay said. "I'll finish up here. Besides, with your luck, the Captain will call again."

"Yeah, she's been racking up a pretty good score on that, hasn't she?" Paris said. "I wonder if she's keeping score, and what a butt shot's worth?"

"I'd say it depends on whether or not she had the communicator set for record when she called." Chakotay said.

Paris laughed and pulled on his boots again, went over. "You know, Chakotay, you may develop a real sense of humor yet."

"I didn't used to have a sense of humor?" Chakotay asked.

"Nope, not a bit." Paris scooped up the "faux oatmeal", as Neelix called it. Okay if you liked raisins--it tasted like sour raisins that had been chopped up and partially pureed. Tolerable and nutritious, at least. "But you were still loveable without one. Don't worry about it."

"I don't plan to." Chakotay said. "Anything on the Alpha Quadrant you want to check up on?"

"Yeah, sports scores." Paris said. "I got any number of bets about who would win the World Series for the last four years."

"Which sport is that?"

"Earth American baseball. I've been backing the Shanghai Stallions, though the new pitcher the Nairobi Jets have been fielding has me worried."

"Oh yeah, baseball. What about the Universal Series?"

"Well, the Rigellian Constellations are pretty good. Still, I can't get too worked up over the Universal Series, even though I do agree that they have to make accommodations for the physical differences of the various species. Oh, and ever since the Klingons fielded a team for American football, that sport got too damned rough for me to watch. They win it every year and it's no fun; you're supposed to sack your opponent, not slaughter him."

"They need to do the same set of accommodations for American football." Chakotay agreed.

"Klingons have to play with extra-large buckets of cement on their feet." Paris agreed. "And with all teeth and fangs ripped out. Poor Kelly McNamara, with those slashes on his face after the last game. I saw. Rough!"

"They healed him with the emergency regenerators." Chakotay pointed out.

"Yeah, but can you blame him for not tackling the Klingons worth a damn after that? Even with a formal apology from his opponent?"

"Not really."

"And the accommodations sort of ruin the game, especially football which is mostly a game of sheer physical strength."

"Well, there's still regular football which hasn't needed to be touched. At least ever since the Klingons agreed not to bring their mek-leths into the arena any more after that nasty situation in London. The Britishers being outdone by the after-game destruction seems to have done some real damage to their morale. You done?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. My turn for dishes." Paris said.

"I was about to say that. I'll get the screen set up for display of the sports highlights. At least that, they won't have censored because of the war."

"Tell the computer to save out all information about the ten best events for us to view in full without knowing the results. We need entertainment for the future, you know."

"Fair enough." Chakotay agreed.

They spent the morning recapping the events in sports though the requirement Paris had placed resulted in some baffling gaps. The computer, for instance, refused to tell them anything about the entire World Series for 2372. They had lunch while agreeing that it was the first place to start watching the games.

Janeway called at 1300 hours just as they were finishing up. "How are things going, gentlemen?"

"Everything is fine, Captain." Chakotay said.

"We're going to watch the 2372 World Series starting right now." Paris said. "And if any of you tell us who won, we'll blast the wormhole shut."

"The crew has already had the same idea. No danger from this end. The plan is to show one game per evening with no foreknowledge of how many games there are to be seen. I suggest you two do the same so you'll be in synch when you return to Voyager tomorrow. Enjoy yourselves, gentlemen." Janeway said.

"Where's Harry?" Paris saw a female ensign at his usual station.

"I gave him the day off."

"Yeah, he was pretty shook up by his personal message from home." Paris agreed. "Anything else on that front we should hear about?"

"Nothing so dramatic as that. What about your own message you sent home?"Janeway asked. "I noticed that you had it set up for a somewhat unique delivery."

"Yeah. Dad hasn't had a chance to see it yet, but Aunt Matilda has promised she'll make him watch it when he gets back from an inspection trip." Paris said. "I'm willing to wait for that. And Aunt Matilda looked really well for her age."

"I'm glad to hear it. How are you two doing otherwise?" Janeway was looking at Chakotay.

"I will want to do the ritual farewell when I return to Voyager." Chakotay said. "But I'm fine, otherwise, thank you, Captain."

"Enjoy the game. Janeway out."

"Well, ready to go to the old ball game?" Paris asked.

"Sure." Chakotay said.

"We have to have the proper attitude, which requires popcorn, peanuts and beer. My treat, I won over a hundred rations so far in the gambling bets."

"Thank you."

"Computer, we are ready to watch the first game of the 2372 World Series. Which teams will be playing?" Paris said as he went to the replicator.

"The Shanghai Stallions and the Nairobi Jets."

"You had them nailed right, Tom." Chakotay said.

"Computer, background leading up to the World Series. Give us the feel of the competition to date."

"The Nairobi Jets took an early lead in the Earth League, defeating the first five teams including the heavily favored Detroit Pistons and the Houston White Socks in no-hitters. However, their pitcher, Robert N'Kele, was injured in a training accident and was out of the game for the rest of the season. The Nairobi Jets managed to keep their World Series status thanks to their strong outfielders, Mwose, Oduori and Zulia. N'Kele has been released by the doctors and will be pitching for the Jets in the World Series. Critics, however, say that his pitching arm has not fully recovered and he will be unable to give the Nairobi Jets the edge they will need to defeat the Shanghai Stallions."

Paris tasted the popcorn he had replicated, grimaced and put it back into the replicator. "Computer, add melted butter to the popcorn. And salt, double the amount of salt."

"Salt has already been added in the maximum amount recommended by the medical database."

"Who cares? Add the damned salt!"

"Acknowledged."

"Computers have no sense for tradition." Paris complained. "Computer, make the beer just barely cold. We've got to have tepid beer and over-salted popcorn."

"If you say so." Chakotay agreed.

"Only kind you can get at a real baseball game. Some sort of rule about that, I think." Paris brought their supplies over. "Computer, continue with the briefing on the game."

"The Shanghai Stallions have been performing with their usual competency, defeating seventeen of the eighteen teams they have faced in the league to this point. The fact that they have not played the Nairobi Jets in this season, though, has caused the arguments among fans as to whether the Shanghai Stallions can hit the pitching of the famous N'Kele."

"Sounds like a good game." Paris said as he handed Chakotay a beer and a bag of peanuts. "Computer, begin the first game of the World Series."

The screen lit up and Paris leaned back to enjoy the game.

N'Kele's pitching arm was definitely off. The announcer said so and Paris agreed. The Stallions got two hits off from him in the first three innings, one of them a home-run by Paris' favorite heavy-hitter for the Stallions, Nung Chang. But the Jets had scored sequential two home runs, and at the end of the third inning, the score was 4-3 in the Jet's favor. The Stallions' pitcher was traded at the beginning of the fourth inning. For a rookie pitcher in his first World Series. The announcer explained that this new pitcher, Wen Chow, had pitched only once before for the Stallions, in the end of the sole game which they had lost, but that he had pitched perfectly for those two innings. Only the big lead of the Berlin Eagles had let them win that game.

Paris watched, enraptured, as Wen Chow proceeded to pitch a perfect game for the remaining innings, not giving away a single run to the Jets. And N'Kele was in better form, but still, at the beginning of the ninth inning, he gave away a double once again to Nung Chang. He proceeded to strike out the next hitters in short order. Then the rookie, Wen Chow, came to bat.

Pitchers are not known to be heavy hitters as a rule. Paris waited for a pinch-hitter to be brought in. But he wasn't, and Wen Chow stepped up. He seemed determined to swing at anything that N'Kele pitched him. Strike one. Ball one. Strike two. Ball two. Ball three.

Paris was on the edge of his seat as N'Kele gave a twist that Paris recognized. "It'll be a curve ball." he said to Chakotay. "Low and outside."

It was, but Wen Chow leaned down and connected. A high pop fly and Wen Chow was off and running. The robot cameras followed the ball up into the air, keeping it perfectly centered and outlined in a green cross-hair for the viewer's convenience as it rose up and came down, a beautiful patsy for N'Kele on the mound! N'Kele reached up almost lazily to catch the ball.

And he fubbed it! The ball slipped from his mitt and rolled a short distance away. He ran for it, and tossed it to Olimba on third, but it was too late. Chang had made it there already.

And Chow was heading for second! "No way!" Paris moaned. "He'll never make it.

He didn't, and was tagged out. But he connected with Wamwere in such a way that he knocked the ball from Wamwere's hand. And Chang was heading for home!

Wamwere had to scramble over Chow's prostrate body to get the ball and he chucked it for home. Wildly, it went over the catcher's head and Chang was home safe.

"God, a double fumble by the Jets!" Paris crowed. And the score was now 4-4. Wamwere seemed to be angry, and the umpires had to get involved, but Wen Chow remained in the game. Apparently he had not fouled Wamwere, at least not enough to get kicked out of the game. Chow again pitched a no-hitter, and the game went into extra innings. N'Kele kept the Stallions at 4-all, and Chow, who seemed to be feeling the stress, served up a real meatball pitch to Olimba, who batted it out into the bleachers where fans scrambled and scrapped to get it. End of the first game of the 2372 World Series; the Jets had won 6-4.

"Whoa, that was some game!" Paris said.

"I'm sorry your team lost." Chakotay commiserated.

"Huh? Oh, that's nothing. N'Kele is off-form and that new kid has it on the ball. He hit N'Kele's curve ball! That's why the coach left him in the game! N'Kele's invulnerable curve ball has met its match. He won't dare use it on Wen Chow again!"

"You sure about that?" Chakotay said.

"Care for a side wager?" Paris said.

"Not in a game I don't know." Chakotay admitted. "But I can see why you like it."

"That's good." Paris said. "I'm going to call my bettors over on Voyager and see if anyone wants to go double or nothing on this series."

"Later tonight or tomorrow." Chakotay said. "They won't see it until this evening, remember?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah!" Paris said, a bit miffed. "Can't even talk to them about it. What time is it? 1745. I'm surprised the Captain hasn't buzzed in, yet."

"She did. Just as the game went into overtime. I asked if it could wait until the end of the game, and she agreed.

"Oh!" Paris said. "Let's call in for work, then."

Janeway's smile was indulgent. "Game over, gentlemen?" she asked.

"Yeah." Paris said. "Good stuff. A real battle. Well worth watching."

"Could you check on another battle for me?" Janeway said. "The one in Sector 145?"

"Certainly, Captain." Paris said, shifted communications. "Voyager shuttle calling the Johannes Kepler. Come in, please." he said.

"Johannes Kepler, Captain Parlane here." the intense young captain was back, voice only.

"Good evening, Captain. We were wondering about the news from the battle."

"The battle is going on now." Captain Parlane said. "The Federation is outnumbered two to one. The wormhole is becoming unstable, but we can still send you audio signals through reliably. Would you like to hear the battle reports as they come in?"

"If it is not too much strain on your systems." Janeway agreed.

"We can spare the power for now." Parlane said. "Switching over."

Paris cut the vocal for a moment. "That man has all the winning charm of a Vulcan who has achieved Kolinahr."

Chakotay chuckled.

They listened, moved and ate in silence over the next four hours as they listened to the battle. It started, from their viewpoint, with a spearhead of four starships, the flagship and Galaxy-class starship Enterprise, the Hood and the Gorkon, both Excelsior-class, and the Constitution-class Potemkin. Hearing that, Paris held his breath. But the reports were overlapping and hectic, and Captain Brennovan's name never came up that he spotted, or more importantly, that Chakotay noticed. Admiral Nechayev aboard the Enterprise knew Brennovan personally, it seemed, and referred to him throughout as "Robert". And the elderly voice was enough to finish the camoflauge job. About time my luck changed, he thought to himself as the Potemkin became damaged and was ordered to withdraw to Starbase 211 near the Klingon border. After that, Paris was able to forget his own personal worries and concentrate on worrying for the Federation.

The battle for Sector 145, in the asteroid-strewn wasteland surrounding the four suns of the Exemar system, did not go well for the Federation. Though they destroyed plenty of Jem Hadar ships (the ships would not surrender and kept firing up until the point when they were destroyed or completely disabled and would self destruct), there were plenty more left and, with the Hood destroyed and the Gorkon disabled and about to be captured or destroyed by the Jem Hadar, the Enterprise effectuated an emergency evacuation of the Gorkon, taking heavy damage as it did so and, their main ships out of action, the Federation fleet finally had to beat a strategic withdrawal.

Paris listened as long as he could to the fighting withdrawal and said, "Can we shut that off now, please?" he asked Chakotay and Janeway together.

"I don't see why not." Janeway said.

"One moment." Chakotay said. "Captain Parlane, Commander Chakotay here. Will Potemkin or another vessel be able to return to enhance the wormhole by tomorrow at 1600?"

There was a brief pause. "Captain Janeway, the Potemkin may or may not be able to make the rendevous. We will stay on station as long as we can here. If you want the shuttle to go ahead and enter the wormhole, we will expend the power to stabilize it for that long."

Before anyone else could jump into that pregnant pause, Paris took the plunge. "Captain Parlane, you are restricting access to audio only. What is the degree of stability of the wormhole at present and how much would you be able to enhance it at this time?"

"There would be a degree of risk." Parlane admitted. "Enough that I won't recommend it, but I won't stand in your way if you choose to do it. But we don't require a Constitution-class starship for the enhancement. The Budapest is en route to supplement the Federation forces, we can re-route her here and she'll arrive by 0700 the day after tomorrow."

"Captain Parlane, we scanned the probe on this side of the wormhole." Chakotay said. "There is a fluctuation in the starboard power cell and we don't know enough about the probe to know if it's significant. Relaying our readings on it. Lieutenant, please scan the probe and furnish Captain Parlane with the current readings."

It took Paris a moment to realize Chakotay meant him! "Aye, aye!" he said and ran the scan.

Chakotay sent the readings to the Kepler and they waited. After a time, Chakotay said, "Captain Parlane...."

"Yes, yes, we are extrapolating now." A long pause. "We will consult and call you back tomorrow at 0800."

"Agreed." Janeway said before Chakotay could protest.

"Kepler out."

"Captain...." Chakotay said.

"Commander, I understand. They will call us back tomorrow and we will see if we can stabilize or replace the power cell. In the meantime, let's trust the Kepler. I just wish you and Paris had gone through the wormhole two days ago like I requested. You could be safe in the Alpha Quadrant now."

"We'll all go home in two days' time." Chakotay said. "In the meantime, Voyager is my home. And you are my family."

Paris felt Chakotay's hand reaching for his and he grasped it underneath the console gratefully, his eyes tearing up, gripping fiercely, possessively, the dark hand in his own! "I have to agree 100%." he said.

Janeway's eagle eyes noticed the position of their hands. "I am glad you feel that way. Let's hope the Budapest can make it in time. Janeway out."

"Computer, all calls voice-only and signal prior to connection." Chakotay said firmly.

"Acknowledged."

"Let's get to bed." Chakotay said.

"Suits me." Paris yawned, started to cover it with his hand, but it was held by Chakotay. He covered with the other and said, "Do I get my hand back now?"

"Nope." Chakotay said.

"Not even to get undressed?" Paris teased as they stood up.

Chakotay considered that problem. "Well, if you'll trade hands with me, maybe."

"That still makes it very awkward." Paris said. I could manage my tunic that way, but what about my boots? A team effort?"

"I don't want to let go of you." Chakotay said. "Not right now."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't care."

"Well...." Paris said. "Let's see how this works out." He unfastened his tunic with his free hand, though the magnetic clotures fought that. Chakotay did the same, and switching hands let their jackets fall to the floor. But then each were wearing t-shirts, that had to be pulled up over their heads. "Team time." Paris judged.

With his one hand and Chakotay's, they tugged Paris' t-shirt up to where he could get his head through, though he spent an uncomfortable moment with his head trapped in the fabric. Damned stupid anachronism, t-shirts, they hadn't changed in a thousand years. His outer clothing formed a complete bond over his body with the clotures, making him feel as if he were wearing a full-body jumpsuit; why didn't they do the same with the t-shirts? He got it off his free arm with Chakotay's help, though that nearly wrenched his shoulder muscles, and then they switched and he was out of it. "Your turn." He said, judging this would end the rather juvenile game they were playing.

Chakotay and he pulled up Chakotay's t-shirt, and Chakotay got to spend some time in the stink of his own chest sweat as Paris had. Paris grinned as he saw Chakotay flinch at the wrenching of his arm to get the one arm free. As they switched hands again, he said, "Give up yet?"

"No."

"Ready for the battle of the boots?"

"Hmmmm." Chakotay mused, hesitating for good reason. Starfleet issue boots were damned difficult to put on and remove even when you had both hands free; they clung to your feet like living things. "Hah! Got it!"

He had? Really? "How?" Paris asked.

"I should have thought of this long ago." Chakotay said as he reached down and undid Paris' fly and fished inside. Paris was already hard from the rather intimate exertions, and Chakotay found his stiff rod and clung tightly to it as he brought it into the light. "Now." he said as he released Paris' hand. "Go ahead and take off your boots?"

He was serious! "I need to sit down."

"Go ahead." Chakotay said as he flogged Paris' cock. Paris moaned and managed a sort of turtle-on-its-back posture, fishing off his boots while Chakotay worked his cock. As Paris got first one boot and then the other off, then his socks, and as he rose to take down his trousers, Chakotay moved with him and Paris found the action on his penis during these moments an incredible turn-on. He was damned near ready to explode when, finally nude, he gasped out, "Your turn."

Chakotay held on and continued to flog his pud while Paris fished into his fly with fumbling fingers, and found the flaccid organ and brought it to stiff attention. Then, almost reluctantly, he let go and performed the same actions as Paris had. Paris was able to anticipate his movements, and though he had to do a quick hand-change at one point, managed to keep Chakotay's cock going full-tilt. As Chakotay stood up and yanked down his pants and underwear with one motion, not bending down to do so, letting them fall the last two-thirds of the way, he grabbed Paris' cock again and they stroked each other.

"Now to get into bed while we keep this up." he panted.

"Ooh, yeah!" Paris said.

They found it easy enough to accomplish this, and lay there beneath the covers, their hands still busy. Paris was ready to explode and said, panting, "How do you want to finish this?"

"Just like this." moaned Chakotay. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all." Paris groaned. "I'm about to blow!"

"Me, too!" Chakotay echoed in similar tones.

"Shoot it on me! Please!" Paris begged.

"You got it, baby!" Chakotay turned his way and said, "You, too, all over me."

"Yeah! Yeah!"

"Oh, oh, oh!"

"Uh, uhhhhh!

"Oo-oo-oo-ooh!"

"Huh-kuuuuh!"

"Oo-oo-oo-ooomph!"

And their wads arced towards each other, soaking their sheet and undoubtedly colliding in mid-air at times, Paris found himself getting splattered from his nipples to his crotch with the spurting clumps of jism.

Done, drenched with sweat and sticky with Chakotay's ejaculate, Paris was almost surprised when Chakotay moved to him and began to rub their stomachs together. By the time he was done, Paris' stomach was a solid oval of gooey, drying jizz, and Chakotay's felt the same.

Chakotay held their cocks together like this for a time and Paris, feeling very sleepy, let him. "That was great." he murmured in Chakotay's ear.

"Glad you like it, too." Chakotay agreed. "Waconda and I did this all the time when I was little. He shot his first wad all over me. We were both surprised, and Waconda got up his courage and asked Dad what had happened then explained it to me. How I learned the facts of life."

"Really?" Paris said groggily. "I got mine from a book at the library. Slipped it into my backpack and read it, then sneaked it back in."

"We always planned to get some time, an entire day, when we would both be alone together and just spend the entire time playing with each other. Even were going to make a bet about whether or not we could pull it off." Chakotay snickered. "Sorry, pun unintentional."

"But a good one." Paris kissed him. "Let's sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a very busy day. Voyager arrives at 1500 tomorrow. Our little vacation of love is coming to an end and we get to figure out how we're going to deal with things on board ship. You know, your place or mine?"

"Mine's bigger." Chakotay said. "We'll work it all out. I love you, Tom."

"I love you, too, Chakotay." Paris said. He didn't pick up the significance of Chakotay's words, not that night. He was too sleepy and soon fell asleep, sweaty, smelly, sticky and feeling absolutely wonderful.

END OF CHAPTER 10

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Shuttle Trip, Day 11