Adult-FanFiction.org : Television / Streaming

Enterprise: The Measure of a Man	By : Gargoyla Category: Star Trek > Enterprise Views: 7426 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
**DISCLAIMER: Fan fiction only. NO money is being made off this story and no infringement on copyrights is intended with respect to aired and theatrical Star Trek.

Enterprise: The Measure of a Man Part 1
Kovar�s single bulbous eye lit up the moment his First Mate led him into the cargo hold. Their barge�s new tractor beam, recently pilfered from a merchant who had had no idea how to use it efficiently, had done its job to perfection. The hold was stuffed to the walls with a variety of small crafts, including a sleek single-occupancy racer and even a military-style shuttlepod. Those would all fetch a fair price, of course, but what lay inside them interested Kovar far more.

"This might be best haul we�ve had all year," he said, stroking his blubbery chin with suction-tipped fingers. "I presume each vessel bears a different species?"

"Scans indicate a total of five," Tharg said, nodding proudly. "All of them humanoid� more or less. I assume they were on their way to the Sector Security conference when we intercepted them. No doubt they�d heard the reports of increased piracy in this area and were eager to offer their assistance."

"Indeed," Kovar agreed. He paused so that the two of them could share a long, rumbling chortle over that particular irony. Even the cargo hands joined in discreetly. "So�how many males are there?" he asked finally.

"Well�four are, for certain. There are three females. And there is one specimen I confess I am not sure about."

Kovar�s single eye narrowed. "Three females? Are they pleasing to look at?"

"Not exactly." Tharg grimaced. "A bit too soft-skinned and long-limbed for my taste."

"Pity. It hardly seems worth the trouble to ransom them, considering how empty most of the local coffers have become. I suppose we have no choice. But the males will fetch a good price?"

"All young and sturdy. See for yourself. They�ll be sleeping peacefully for several hours yet."

"I intend to. Let me see the undecided specimen first. Better to resolve that question at once."

"Very well." Tharg removed a pointed tool from his belt clip and walked over the sleekly fashioned racing vessel. It took him only a moment to electronically jimmy the hatch. He and Kovar pulled it back and peered inside. An apparently youl hul humanoid lay inside, a shimmering capelike garment spread out around the lanky torso and graceful limbs. The being�s skin was vaguely purplish, with a quantity of silky black hair tied back behind double-tipped ears.

Kovar�s single eye blinked in perplexity. "I see what you mean. Its sex is not as readily apparent as one could wish."

"Well, there are other modes of inquiry."

"Quite." Kovar motioned for two of his cargo hands to step forward. "Strip him."

To their surprise, the sleeping androgyne stirred the moment their cuplike fingers touched him. The captive reared back, emitting a most irritating shriek of protest. The universal translator Kovar wore pinned to his shirt picked up a few disjointed phrases.

"Let me go at once! I am the future ruler of Meraxia! I have given no one permission to touch my person!"

"Your sleeping vapor has failed yet again, Tharg," Kovar grumbled, reaching for his disruptor and impatiently adjusting the dial. "If you will recall, I suggested that you increase its density the last time this happened."

Their hostage continued to squirm and bellow until a single jolt hit him square in his chest and rendered him instantly unconscious. Matter-of-factly, the pirates went back to work, shredding away the tailored garments as if they were unwrapping a gift. In a sense, they were.

When the last of the fabric was gone, the four of them shared another round of laughter.

"Male enough," Tharg pronounced when they had managed to get control of themselves. "Not particularly impressive, but he�ll do."

"He will if he can keep his mouth shut."

"Too bad Venda is so set in her ways. She might like this one better if we rendered him permanently mute."

"Don�t even think about it. You know her requirements�absolutely no injury or dismemberment, or an fan forget all future commerce with her. We might as well become beggars tomorrow if you don�t feel you can control your baser urges."

"Understood." Tharg nodded and quickly moved to the next craft. Kovar followed.

"Yes, I�ve seen one of these creatures before," he said when they opened the second hatch. "They are called Andorians. Not ideal, but this one will do."

The inspection continued on through the next few crafts, revealing a few more adequate, if hardly breathtaking, specimens. When they got to the last craft, the unusually styled shuttlepod, Tharg patted it as if it were a prized mistress or pet.

"Now this, this is the real prize. Venda and the rest of them will be extremely pleased. These three alone will fetch as great a price as all the others combined."

He opened the craft and stood aside expectantly.

Kovar let out a breath of amazement as he looked down at the three collapsed figures, clad in odd blue jumpsuits, obviously a uniform of some kind. They lay sprawled over their control panels as if they�d still been trying to right the craft when the knockout gas, pumped in through the life-support system once they�d entered the cargo bay, swept the consciousness from their bodies.

"By the gods�you�re right. They are perfect, absolutely perfect. What are they called?"

"It is my understanding that they are known as Terrans. Ugly, aren�t they?"

"Hideous. Astonishingly, unutterably so. But they�re beautiful in the sense that they will undoubtedly make us rich."

"Agreed. It�s almost a shame they won�t remember us ll. ll. They might be happy to know how very highly we valued them during their stay here."

Kovar nodded, then motioned again to his cargo hands. They came at once with their fabric-cutting implements.

---

The first thing Archer saw when he opened his eyes was a vast expanse of algae-green sky, punctuated by an oversized sun and heavy, yellowish clouds that turned and rolled like alien behemoths basking in the humid sky.

At first, he assumed that he was in his quarters, slowly coming out of one of those suffocating dreams that resulted from setting the temperature controls too high. Gradually, though, other memories crowded out that fleeting fantasy. A request to assist a local peacekeeping force in patrolling a new sector�an invitation to a strategic planning session�something wrong in the shuttlepod�.

Reality swept over him suddenly, snapping the tendrils of his mental cobwebs. He put his hands out and realized that he was lying on bare ground, the gravel biting into his skin. Because, oddly enough, the ground wasn�t the only thing that was bare.

Whatever drug his captors had given him was slow in wearing off, because it took several minutes before his vision cleared and his head stopped thundering. Instinctively, his hands moved to cover himself as he struggled to his knees. Archer realized that he was inside an enclosure, primitively constructed from rows of bamboo-like poles lashed together with dried vine. The roof of the structure was composed of similar, equally flimsy materials. Breaking out wouldn�t have been difficult at all, which he supposed accounted for his nudity and stupefied condition.

Of course, his first coherent thought wasn�t for his modesty; it was for his crew. Archer pressed his face up against the makeshift prison bars and peered into the enclosure that adjoined his. He was relieved to see Trip stirring back to consciousness there, and beyond the back wall of Trip�s cage, he saw other silhouettes moving around. Hopefully, one of them was Reed.

"Trip," he whispered through the bars, though the effort of speaking made his head start pounding all over again. "Trip, are you awake? Can you hear me?"

Trip looked around for a moment, bewildered, as if he couldn�t figure out where his captain�s voice was coming from. Finally, he turned in the right direction and his gaze fell on Archer�s face.

"Don�t come over here," Archer said quickly. "Someone might be watching. Just go over to the other side and see if Malcolm�s there."

Understanding, Trip gave an almost imperceptible nod and did as Archer asked. He crawled back a few moments later and leaned against the bars without looking around.

"I saw him. He�s okay. There�s a bunch of us, from what I can tell. An Andorian and a couple other species I don�t recognize. Captain, if you don�t mind my asking, where the hell a

"The last thing I remember is setting off for the conference. Could the shuttle have crashed?"

"Maybe, but that wouldn�t explain where these other folks came from. We all seem to be in the same boat, and none of us are hurt."

"In that case, I�d we� we�ve been hijacked."

"I think I know what happened," another voice cut in. Trip anchercher looked around and saw an odd-looking young man peering through the grate at the far side of Archer�s cell. "There were four creatures, foul-smelling beasts with crusty green skin. I was in some kind of shuttle bay and they were�" he paused to scowl indignantly�"handling me. As the future ruler of Meraxia, I was most grievously offended."

Trip and Archer exchanged a glance. "Speaking of that," Trip said, "any idea why we�re so�ah�underdressed for the occasion?" He fell silent as heavy footsteps, obviously belonging to more than one captor, moved toward them, crunching on the gravel. Trip whistled under his breath. "Speaking of ugly, Captain, look at that."

A hulking figure, vaguely humanlike except for his protruding teeth and a piglike nose, flung open Trip�s grate and stepped into the enclosure. Another member of the same species, covered in the same crude armor and carrying the same switchlike baton, opened Archer�s cage at the same time. The creatures grunted out a series of commands their subdermal translators failed to parse.

"I think it�s their way of saying, �move it,�" Trip commented as his guard shoved him roughly forward. Archer and the Meraxian fell into step behind him. Archer glanced back and was relieved to see Malcolm stumbling along behind him, looking mortified but otherwise uninjured. The Andorian, not bothering to disguise his fury, walked behind Malcolm. Archer tried to see who else had joined the line, but a painful whack of the piglike creature�s baton had him facing front again.

"Should we try to escape?" Malcolm leaned forward to whisper.

"I don�t see how we could," Archer mumbled back when the guards looked away. "We�re outnumbered, and I�m still not too steady on my feet. I want a better idea what we�re up against."

The baton came down again, this time harder, on his shoulders. Even without the UT�s help, the guard�s demand for silence was easy enough to understand. This time, the club remained poised over his head as the group passed through another frond-woven gate, then another.

Suddenly, they were standing in front of a steep flight of polished stone steps, leading up to a dais of some sort. Though they couldn�t yet see over it, they heard the distinct sounds of a crowd waiting on the other side.

"I�m sudd get getting a real bad feeling about this," Trip said, his face a shade paler in spite of the heat. "That sounds like a party I wish we hadn�t been invited to."

"They�re not going to�sacrifice us? Or worse?" Malcolm asked in a choked voice.

"Keep your eyes open," Archer said as they started to walk up, single file. "If you see a chance to make a break for it, go. If Malcolm�s right, we may as well go down fighting."

"Agreed," Malcolm said, and Trip also nodded.

The stones were warm, almost too warm, under their bare feet as they ascended the structure on shaking legs. Suddenly, they and the rest of the captives were standing in a row on a long platform made of the same polished stone. At each corner stood one of the porcine guards, batons at the ready. Below them, seated on dozens of rows of long, curved benches, an enormous crowd waited. As each man took his place on the stage, appreciative cheers erupted from below.

"Will you look at that," Trip muttered, his voice faint with shock. It wasn�t a question.

"I�m looking, all right," Malcolm said. The noise was so loud he was no longer worried about being overheard by the guards. "I just can�t believe it!"

Archer, too, wondered if the heat and the after-effects of the drug were wreaking havoc on his eyesight. But apparently Trip and Malcolm saw the same thing he did.

The entire audience, containing what seemed like hundreds of spectators, consisted of humanoid women.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Enterprise: The Measure of a Man