TITLE: "Prelude To Betrayal"

AUTHOR: Donovan

RATING: NC-17

PAIRING: Dylan/Garharis

SPOILERS: None to speak of. Foreshadows some events that occur in the pilot.

DISCLAIMER: "Gene Roddenberry's Andromeda" is the property of Tribune Entertainment among others. I just borrowed the boys for a little fun and promise to return them unharmed - just a little more experienced. No money has changed hands.

AUTHORS NOTE: Okay, here it is - my first Andromeda fic. I've been mulling this plot around since the premier and finally just had to put it on paper. I used Allsystems.org for much of the background material such as using the Hydroponics deck for recreation, the Force-Lances, etc. Any feedback is welcomed, public or private.

Special thanks to Ziggy for beta reading.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: /-/ denotes italics

By Donovan

The whooshing sound as Dylan entered the /Andromeda's/ Hydroponics deck tipped him off in the nick of time. He dove forward tucking into a roll with a twist and came back to his feet facing his attacker. He had been quick but nevertheless, Gaharis' F-Lance had lightly grazed his ear. His own F-Lance, now in his hand, expanded to its full length and he brought it up just in time to deflect another blow.

"You could at least wait until I'm in the room!" Dylan exclaimed with exhilaration and launched a series of return blows and feints.

Gaharis skillfully dodged or deflected each attack then swung his weapon catching Dylan's left heel which sent the slightly larger man reeling to the floor. As he watched Dylan skillfully recover Gaharis arched an eyebrow and responded with, "You were the Boy Scout, Dylan. You should have been prepared."

Dylan chuckled under his breath and added, "I was." Then he was forced to dodge another attack from Gaharis.

The two continued to circle and dodge each other for several minutes, each pressing the attack in turn. There were several crewmembers enjoying the facilities on the Hydroponics deck that stopped what they were doing to watch Dylan and Gaharis spar.

The /Andromeda Ascendant's/ executive officer was dressed in his usual workout gear, a blood red singlet in the style favored by Nietzschean wrestlers. The garment had straps over his clavicles that left his shoulders and arms bare but covered his torso down to just above his knees like a second skin. Gaharis always left his feet bare during workouts. He said he preferred the unfiltered /feel/ of the terrain, but Dylan much preferred the added traction of his synthetic sole-gripping slippers. The captain was dressed in equally casual attire consisting of dark blue exercise pants that tightly hugged his pelvis and thighs. He also wore a loose fitting gray muscle shirt that covered his broad chest but left the lower half of his abdomen exposed.

Dylan studied Gaharis as they circled each other. There was something different about his tactics tonight. He was being overly aggressive even for a Nietzschean. Again and again, Dylan didn't quite evade quickly enough and received at least part of the blow. But for his own part Dylan was not completely out matched and landed several strikes that caused Gaharis to stumble, fall or abort his attack. Dylan had learned much from these melee sessions with Gaharis over the last year and he had even managed to teach the stoic Nietzschean a thing or two.

But what was different about tonight? Suddenly Dylan noticed something. The group of crewmen that had gathered to watch them had all but left the deck. Then after a tumble and recovery, he noticed that one of the other Nietzschean officers was walking the last few crewmen to the door. The hatch closed behind them leaving Dylan and Gaharis alone in the entire Hydroponics deck.

Dylan stood up straight and giving the hand signal for a pause, he asked, "Gaharis, is something going on?"

Gaharis paused and stood facing Dylan. With a grin, he flicked his wrist and Dylan heard the unmistakable whine of the F-Lance charging up.

"Hey, wait a second." Dylan did not get to finish his protest.

With a Nietzschean battle cry, Gaharis lunged. Dylan reacted on instinct, simultaneously deflecting the deadly F-Lance and charging his own. This Nietzschean drive for improvement through conflict was dangerous. Dylan had never beaten Gaharis in a melee match before but lately his friend had been constantly upping the ante. Dylan now knew more about Nietzschean hand-to-hand tactics than any human in the High Guard. And he had suffered the bruises and broken bones to prove it. So why did Gaharis push them both so hard?

Dylan ducked and rolled just in time to evade a shot that left a scorch mark on the exercise mat. He dashed behind one of the Vedran shrubs pausing to catch his breath.

"Gaharis," he called. "What are you doing?"

"Preparing you for the worst," came the stoic reply and a shot from the F-Lance that shook the shrubbery.

Dylan rolled to new cover, returning fire as he moved. Gaharis barely dodged the shot.

"You realize we could kill each other here," Dylan offered.

"Adversity brings enrichment," Gaharis spouted.

Dylan only grunted in response and didn't quite dodge Gaharis' next shot which singed his shoulder. "Damn!" he muttered under his breath.

"Besides," Gaharis called after him. "What you really mean is /I might kill you!/"

Dylan didn't respond this time. Instead he rolled into the open, launching a series of rapid-fire shots forcing Gaharis to seek cover behind a leafy Makran fern. He pressed the attack and charged Gaharis' position shooting to either side of the plant, keeping the Nietzschean in place. When he reached the proximity of the fern he could see Gaharis' back through the leaves. For an instant Dylan had his chance - he could strike through the fern and stun his friend to win the melee. But the electrical shock of the F-Lance could cause serious damage to Gaharis' spine so Dylan shifted his jab to the man's left shoulder. The hesitation to change targets was no longer than half a second. But it was all the time Gaharis needed.

With genetically engineered speed Gaharis rolled to the side and thrust his own F-Lance through the plant. Dylan's F-Lance found nothing but Gaharis' weapon made contact with Dylan square in the chest. The impact and corresponding electric shock threw the large man back ten meters to land unconscious flat on his back.

When Dylan came to, Gaharis was above him, their faces only centimeters apart. He felt disoriented and his body ached.

Gaharis smiled and said, "You stopped breathing on me. According to Nietzschean code I should have let you die."

Dylan groaned and rubbed his chest where he had been hit. "Why didn't you then?" he asked.

A puzzled look flashed across Gaharis' face and Dylan wondered if the Nietzschean really did know why.

"Well," Gaharis began, "you're not a Nietzschean so the code shouldn't apply to you. Plus there'd be that nasty court-martial business - killing a higher ranking officer and all that." Dylan noticed Gaharis didn't use the term /superior/ officer. "But mostly," he continued, "I just couldn't resist the opportunity to put my lips on yours."

Dylan chuckled in spite of the pain in his chest and reached up to cup a hand behind Gaharis' neck. He ran his fingers up into his friend's dark hair then slowly pulled him into a kiss. Gaharis' hand caressed Dylan's furry, rippled stomach then slipped up under Dylan's shirt. Their kiss deepened as Gaharis' tongue invaded and dominated Dylan's mouth. Dylan's free hand found Gaharis' thigh and followed it up to his swelling crotch.

"Wait," Dylan said releasing Gaharis' crotch and pushing him back. "We can't do this here! Someone might come in."

"No," Gaharis said, rising to his feet. "We will not be disturbed. I've seen to it." He removed his singlet, slipping it off his shoulders and down his smooth torso. "Besides," he said, looking around as he pushed it down his legs and stepped out of it, "it's beautiful in here."

Dylan sat up stiffly, wincing at the soreness in his chest. "I thought Nietzscheans weren't supposed to notice such things."

Gaharis squatted beside Dylan, kissed him again briefly then said, "Beauty? I notice." Then standing again and straddling Dylan's legs he looked down and said, "And I beat you. Again. I want my prize."

Dylan smiled and taking Gaharis' erect penis in his hand said, "Remind me to never again bet with a Nietzschean." Then he opened his mouth and swallowed Gaharis' manhood to the root.

Gaharis moaned loudly and said, "If just one of my wives could give head like you, Dylan, I'd never leave home again."

Dylan chuckled, the vibration of his throat adding to the sensation he was giving Gaharis. He pulled back and slathered the length of Gaharis' cock with his tongue and caressed the man's hard thighs with his hands. Gaharis was not the typical Nietzschean. He was slightly smaller in size than Dylan, which meant he was actually very small for his sub-species. But Gaharis made up for that with superior intelligence, tactical brilliance and an enviable survival instinct. So much so, in fact, that he had risen to become one of the leaders of his people. Dylan also thought the man was strikingly beautiful with his near black hair, dark complexion and almost hairless body.

Gaharis held Dylan's head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair and caressing his neck and shoulders. Why did he feel such attraction and devotion to this human male? He had never been able to satisfactorily answer that question. Dylan's genetics were sound - there was no question about that. The randomness of human mating was the bane of the species and the first part of human culture discarded by the Nietzscheans. But in Dylan Hunt many of the objectives of Nietzschean genetic engineering had occurred naturally. Dylan was stronger, more intelligent and wiser than most humans. He learned quickly and adapted rapidly. He respected strength, but he too often hesitated to use his own. And that was the trait Gaharis was striving to break. Difficult times were ahead and he wanted Dylan to survive them - even at the expense of his own life if necessary.

Gaharis pulled out of Dylan's mouth and sank to the mat. He removed Dylan's muscle shirt over his head then ran his fingers through the thick hair on Dylan's chest as he leaned in to kiss him. Dylan's arms encircled Gaharis and drew him closer as he reclined back onto the floor. Gaharis then trailed light kisses along Dylan's jaw and down his neck. He sought out first one nipple then the other as he slowly worked his way down Dylan's massive torso. When he reached the flat, furry expanse between Dylan's navel and the top of his exercise pants he noticed the head of Dylan's engorged cock peeking out from the blue waist band. He snaked out his tongue and lapped up the pearl of clear liquid that bubbled at the slit opening. He kissed and licked down the length of the shaft as he pulled the elasticized pants down and out of his way.

After completely removing Dylan's pants Gaharis settled between his outstretched legs. He ran his hand up Dylan's muscular thigh, across his ball sack and grasped Dylan's throbbing member at the base. Easing the organ into his mouth he swirled his tongue around and around the head while stretching his other hand up Dylan's abdomen to caress his chest.

Dylan moaned loudly and closed his eyes. Gaharis, too, was an expert at giving pleasure in this manner. Dylan wondered if sexual prowess was also one of the Nietzschean's genetic objectives, because they had definitely hit the mark with Gaharis.

As Gaharis swallowed Dylan completely his hand moved from the base of Dylan's cock to massage his balls firmly. Then, as he bobbed his head up and down, Gaharis' hand slid between the cheeks of Dylan's ass to finger the tight opening there.

Dylan was moaning constantly and thrashing his head from side to side. His hands were kneading Gaharis' scalp and guiding his up and down motions. Several times Gaharis brought Dylan to the brink then backed off forcing him to postpone orgasm. But finally Dylan could take no more. He grasped Gaharis' head tightly and pistoned his hips slamming his pelvis repeatedly into Gaharis' face. He felt the pleasure-pain of Gaharis' dry finger penetrate his anus and then yelled incoherently as his cock exploded down his exec's throat.

The semen continued to flow as Dylan relaxed his hold on Gaharis' head allowing him to withdraw enough to capture the remaining ejaculations in his mouth. Dylan's body went completely limp and he moaned softly as Gaharis continued to suck every last bit of juice from the still throbbing penis.

Satisfied he had all there was to get, Gaharis raised to his haunches and eased forward resting Dylan's legs on his thighs which lifted Dylan's ass off the mat. Watching the blissful expression on Dylan's face he spit some the captured semen into his hand and coated his still erect and aching cock with it. Then he spit out the remaining juice into his hand and worked it into Dylan's anus. As he inserted the second finger Dylan began to react and pushed back against Gaharis' hand.

After Gaharis had inserted the third finger Dylan opened his eyes and raising his head whispered, "What are you waiting for, Gaharis? Fuck me."

Gaharis grinned, then placing the head of his cock at Dylan's tight ring of muscle he lunged and entered his captain completely in one swift motion.

Dylan screamed with the sudden pain of the invasion and his hands grasped at the exercise mat beneath them. His anus was on fire but he loved it. Gaharis always entered quickly then rode him long and hard. No one, it seemed, could ever outlast a Nietzschean.

Gaharis remained completely still inside Dylan allowing the large man to adjust to the penetration. When he felt Dylan calm down he withdrew all but the head and slowly re-entered. Dylan continued to wince from the pain but began to meet each of Gaharis' slow thrusts. Gaharis then hooked Dylan's legs over his shoulders and leaned into a position with better leverage. He increased the speed of his thrusts and stared down into Dylan's face.

The pain was gone and now there was only pleasure as he stared back at the lovely man fucking him. Before Gaharis, Dylan never could have imagined liking this position. He was no sexual novice and had a string of conquests of both genders, and a few other species, stretching back to his early teens. He had even been with a few other men since meeting Gaharis. But he was always dominant in any coupling. Only with Gaharis did he actually enjoy being the bottom. And he didn't know why. Not that it really troubled him. Nothing that felt this good could trouble him.

Dylan reached up to caress Gaharis' smooth, muscular chest slick with the perspiration of his exertions. He pinched his nipples, stroked his flanks and caressed his rounded shoulders, all the while maintaining eye contact. Gaharis loved staring into Dylan's eyes while they fucked and Dylan loved pleasing him. Dylan's cock was now erect again and throbbing from the pounding his prostate was taking.

On and on, Gaharis slammed into Dylan's ass. His stamina was inhuman. Slowly increasing the rhythm of his pounding of Dylan's prostate, Gaharis brought Dylan to two consecutive orgasms without even touching his cock. As Dylan's sphincter spasmed during his last ejaculation, Gaharis rammed home one last time. His penis erupted in a title wave of genetically engineered emissions. Every muscle tensed, his face contorted and he threw back his head and roared an incoherent victory cry. Then he collapsed on top of Dylan. They kissed and gently caressed each other as their sweaty, exhausted bodies intertwined.

They lay side by side like that for over an hour, silently enjoying the closeness of each other. Then Dylan asked quietly, "Gaharis, why do you push me so hard in melee training? The odds of me ever beating you are remote to none."

Gaharis lifted his head and brushing a stray strand of hair from Dylan's forehead he answered, "But you will beat me, and soon I believe. And when you do, know this: I will not have /let/ you win. That day will be the proudest of my life, for then I will know that I've succeeded and you will survive."

"Survive what?" Dylan asked.

Gaharis paused and gazed deeply into Dylan's smiling eyes. He had a serious look to him that disturbed Dylan. Finally, he answered, "Anything," and laid his head on Dylan's shoulder.

Dylan stared into the high ceiling of the Hydroponics deck. The response left him with an uneasy feeling he couldn't define. Finally he shook it off and pushing Gaharis' shoulder he said, "We'd better clear out of here."

They climbed to their feet and donned their clothes. As they walked to the door Dylan stopped Gaharis. Putting a hand on his shoulder he said, "Gaharis, if you don't have anything planned for later, why don't you stop by my quarters for a late supper?"

Gaharis raised an eyebrow and said, "And maybe some breakfast?"

Dylan smiled and answered, "If you like."

"Thank you, Dylan," Gaharis said. "I don't have anything scheduled until the ship-wide battle drills tomorrow morning. I think I'd like that very much."

END
Donovan