Disclaimer: Unsurprisingly I do not own. WARNING - SLASH! (T/R)
Desert Rescue
The two suns were burning harshly down upon the workers bare backs, burning, scorching. Their backs, already burnt from past days work, were also covered with cruel stripes left by the guards whips which were used frequently and often with no real reason.
A lone figure, set apart from the others, stumbled and fell to his knees dropping his armful of rocks onto the sand. Before he could scramble to his feet a stinging whip was brought down across his shoulder blades again and again and again, elicting cries of pure pain from his sore throat.
"Get back to work, scum," the guard snapped angrily, whipping the smaller man once more before stalking off to torment another poor prisoner. The figure hurried to pick up the rocks, tears of pain still dripping down his cheeks.
Nothing of the mans former life was left in his soul, nor his heart. He was a slave now, no longer was he the proud armoury officer of Enterprise, no longer was he Malcolm Reed.
"We've found him. He's at a slave camp near the equater of the planet," Trip said. "It appears that they work during the day in the desert, that'll make it easier to rescuse him but I don't want to ask what the sun's done to him."
"Right. Have the MACO's come up with a rescue plan that is full proof, I don't want anything to go wrong with this."
"Nothing will sir, nothing will."
They landed on the planet and climbed out of the shuttle, immediatly frowning at the intense heat coming from the twin suns. All armed with phaser rifles and pistols strapped to their waists they started moving, following the tricorder held in Trips hand.
"He's that way," he said. That was when they saw the workers. "Oh God..." 6 guards were amongst them and each one was whipping a slave.
"Which ones LT Reed?" a MACO asked quietly. Trip looked at the tricorder and then up at the workers, frowning. "Well which one?"
"The one on the farthest left...I mean the one being w-w-whipped on the farthest left," Trip whispered. They all stared at the figure, arms over his head, curled up on the sand. "We have to get him out. Quickly."
"Aye sir, that we do. We must get him out of there."
He was dazed with pain as he picked up more of the rocks and began to carry them to the skip they were collected in. He was rounding the rocks being chizeled by other workers and suddenly a hand closed over his mouth and an arm went around his waist.
He cried out as he was pulled backwards into the shadows and saw three people there, with guns. In his sun fried mind he didn't realise that those three people were actually MACO's and that the arms around him were the all too familiar arms of Trip Tucker, he lover. No now he only felt fear, so much fear that he passed out...that and the pain and heat exhaustion.
A/N Chapter 2 coming soon. he he I'm hyper on sugar, tra la la.