Title: Starfleet Hero, Doggy Style

Author: Tsuev

Genre: Action/Humor

Rating: PG

Summary: Porthos gets himself kidnapped! Will Archer come to the rescue still in time?

AN: Thanks to Sita Z, kelsey, Gabi, Exploded Pen, lieutenants-lady, The Libran Iniquity, MaxMacGyver, Rinne and pookha for reviewing!

Chapter 2

When Porthos woke up, Jon was already gone. He stretched and sat up. Now that Jon was gone he could start another attempt at reaching the cookies.

But they were gone. There was nothing left on the counter except for an empty cup.

Maybe they're standing at the very back of the counter.

Porthos jumped up - too much trouble to push over the desk chair now- and dug his claws into the counter's edge. No cookies.

Great. I was expecting as much.

He lost his grip and landed on the floor with a dull thud. With a short howl of pain Porthos got back up, and hobbled over to his pillow. That moment the door slid open, and Jon came in. Today he was a portrait in frisky cheerfulness which only added to Porthos' bad mood. First that man ate (or put away) his cookies, and now he dared being in a good mood when Porthos was feeling grumpy as hell.

"Good morning, Porthos! Had a good night's sleep?"

Sure. Wonderful, and I especially enjoyed listening to you snoring all night long!

"I'm feeling really great this morning."

Yeah, and next you're gonna say "It's a lovely day outside". Porthos curled up on his pillow and closed his eyes with an annoyed sigh.

"Hey, come on old boy! Rise and shine, we're meeting the others in the shuttle bay in less than five minutes!"

Alright, alright, I'm getting up, but will you please stop shouting like that.

With an effort, Porthos got to his feet and watched Jon fuss about, gathering up a few odds and ends and finally coming to stand in front of Porthos with the air of a man ready to tackle Mount Everest. The beagle fought the immediate urge to disappear back under the covers.

He wondered why they were going down to that planet at all. Archer hadn't told him, he'd been too tired yesterday, and of course there was no way he could ask. Still, he was happy to get out of the ship and followed Jon who pressed the button to open the door, a bounce in his step as he walked down the corridor.

When they had reached the shuttle bay Porthos found himself feeling especially evil. He came to a halt next to T'Pol, smacked his lips in a noisy way and began to sniff her boots. As discreetly as possible she took a step aside.

"All ready?" Jon asked in his "Captain's" voice.

"Yessir!" came Reed's crisp reply.

I wonder why that guy always stands ramrod straight, no matter where he is. Maybe because it makes him look a little taller, Porthos mused.

Their away team consisted of Archer, Trip, T'Pol, Reed, Mayweather and two security ensigns. Porthos noted with disappointment that Hoshi was not joining the landing party. Jon sat down on a chair behind the pilot's seat. After Trip had lifted him into the shuttle, Porthos jumped into the Captain's lap and wagged his tail in eager excitement. When everyone had taken a seat, the shuttle doors opened and Mayweather took the pod outside.

Their trip down to the surface passed quickly, and after only a short time Mayweather landed the pod safely on a clearing in some kind of jungle.

The air outside was hot and damp, and it smelled of trees and rain. Porthos ran to a big tree at the edge of the clearing and began to sniff around in the grass. Suddenly a grasshopper-like insect jumped up right in front of his nose, almost giving him a cardiac arrest. Quickly, Porthos returned Jon and the others who were gathered next to the shuttle. T'Pol checked her scanner, then turned to the Captain.

"No mammals in the near vicinity."

She never talks much, does she? Nine or ten words in one sentence, at the most. Well, maybe she thinks all the more, just like I do. Porthos felt something tickling in his nose and sneezed. Still, I'd love to be able to talk. She can do it, but she doesn't want to.

Porthos had to smile at his own weird thoughts. Then his eyes fell on Trip who was telling one of the ensigns about one of his vacations in the tropics where the vegetation had looked just the same.

He can't do it, but he loves to, anyway.

They split up into two teams. It seemed like the humans wanted to gather mineral samples to take them back to Enterprise for further examination. Why they wanted to do so, Porthos had no idea. What use were mineral samples from a planet like this, not very big and not very important either? Surely there were thousands of these planets in a radius of no more than 50 light years.

Porthos was supposed to join Archer, Trip and the two security guards. He approved of the company; he wasn't too fond of Mayweather, Reed scared him and T'Pol's oversensitive reaction to his presence could get a little annoying at times. Porthos was sure he didn't smell that bad.

There were a few beaten paths leading into different directions, apparently created by larger animals moving through the underbrush. Porthos followed his group down the path which went slightly downhill.

It was very quiet, except of course for the usual loud stamping of the humans' feet. The only smell was that of rain and rotting leaves. There wasn't a breath of wind in the air. But Jon and Trip didn't seem to have noticed the ominous silence; they were chatting excitedly about their mineral samples, and the two ensigns were trudging down the path behind them, hands resting on their phasers. Suddenly there was a rustling in the underbrush behind them, but when Porthos turned around the noise was already gone. Feeling his apprehension rising, he crept closer to Jon's feet. After they'd followed the path for about ten minutes, it forked up into several smaller passages, and the humans had to duck in order to avoid the branches which were hanging about one and a half meters above the ground. It seemed like the path they were currently following had been created by smaller animals.

How far is it?? This sure seems to take forever. Boy, I'm glad when we're back on Enterprise.

The air got hotter and damper the further they went into the forest, and Porthos started to pant, thinking wistfully of the dry cool air back on the ship.

Finally they saw a small bit of blue sky, and a moment later stepped into a bright and very small clearing surrounded by beechlike trees. Trip began to scan the big boulders which formed a small, gray hill between two of those trees. He showed them to Archer and they immediately launched into a lively discussion whether to take samples or not.

Well, looks like we're going to stay here a while.

One of the ensigns seemed to be thinking along similar lines, sighing and leaning against one of the trees. Porthos examined the dusty ground and sniffed at the grass at the edge of the clearing. Jon climbed around on the boulders, sprained his ankle and decided to let Trip continue the search. The humans continued to take samples and Porthos was beginning to get bored, idly looking between the trees for something that would stir his interest. No one paid attention to him. One of the ensigns had his eyes closed, and the other one watched as Trip slipped on a rock, landed on his behind and uttered a loud curse. Jon didn't take notice of anything around him, seeming utterly absorbed in a dark spot on one of the boulders.

Porthos disappeared behind one of the large bushes. Back here, the ground was completely covered in half-rotten leaves and small pieces of twigs. Slowly making his way through the undergrowth, Porthos kept looking for one of the paths. He climbed over knobby roots and got caught in the dense foliage more than once. Once he stopped to chew on a juicy grass plant since the damp heat had left him rather thirsty. A scent of river hung in the air and Porthos followed the smell. He could almost see the small drops of water that were hanging in the air. After a while, the murmuring of water came into his hearing range. Finally he discovered a path and headed towards the babbling and splashing. He looked around. The clearing was nowhere to be seen.

Doesn't matter. I'll find my way back.

The murmuring became louder. The ground under his feet was muddy and covered with puddles.

Finally he left the forest behind, and found himself standing on the stony riverbank of a large brook. The bank was strewn with big boulders lying on top of each other, and as far as Porthos could see there was not a single patch of sand to be seen. Strange, fishlike creatures were whizzing through the water, from time to time jumping up in the air.

A few rocks were lying in the riverbed, natural obstacles for the water which had to make its way around them. Porthos stepped closer to the water's edge, a small slope of about twenty centimeters. He bent forward to have a drink.

His snout broke through the cool surface. At the same time, however, he slipped on the wet rock, lost his balance and fell headfirst into the river. Automatically his eyes scrunched shut. The strong current was sweeping him away at a rapid speed, and Porthos kicked his legs to get back to the surface. His snout came up and he took a deep breath, but was immediately drawn back under. He felt his flank scrape along a rock, and the sharp edges left painful scratches in his side. Then another strong current pulled him further down. His lungs filled with water, and he knew no more, the river carrying him away.

XXX

Slowly, he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes and propped himself up on his front paws, his hind paws still lying limply on the ground. He looked around. He was lying on a sand bank, gray, grainy sand stretching in both directions. Looking over at the opposite side of the river, Porthos noticed that the other bank was much the same. A narrow stripe of sand, no more than seven meters between the river and the dense undergrowth.

Porthos became aware of a painful throbbing behind his forehead. The places where the sharp rock had scratched his skin added to the pain. He felt tired, unable to get up and walk. But he couldn't stay here. Who knew what kind of animal might be lurking behind the next tree.

"No mammals in the near vicinity," T'Pol had said. Well, maybe he wasn't in the near vicinity anymore. He had no idea how far the river had carried him, and he had no idea how long he had lain unconscious. Probably quite a while, since his fur was almost dry again.

In any case, he had to try and find his way back as quickly as possible. He tried to get up, but at first his hind paws wouldn't support him. Finally he managed to get to his feet, but that moment a dizzy spell washed over him. He waited for the feeling to pass, and slowly began to make his way down the sand bank, in opposite direction of the current. It was a slow process; he kept stumbling, and every time he fell he felt like he couldn't get up again.

He stopped for a moment to get his breath back. This wasn't going to get him anywhere. Not at this slow pace. The river might have carried him several kilometers; that was how he felt, at least. He had to find a place to hide, and rest before he continued on.

Not on the bank, though. If I sleep here, any predator coming by will see me a mile off.

So the only place left was the forest. Porthos spotted a big tree at the very edge of the jungle. The bottom of its trunk was hollow, and Porthos pushed aside the loose earth and leaves filling the small opening until he had created a hole big enough for him to fit into. The mixture of dust and sand got into his nose, and he sneezed. Lying down, he covered his body with dry leaves to make sure he was safely hidden, rested his head on his front paws and was instantly asleep.

TBC...

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