The X-File Strikes Back

By joan the english chick

Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully, and any other characters you recognize are property of 10-13 Productions and 20th Century Fox, and are used without permission. Han Solo, Princess Leia, Chewbacca, R2D2, C3PO, the Millennium Falcon, etc. are property of George Lucas and are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is property of the author, and may not be reproduced, retransmitted, or posted anywhere without my express permission.
Warning: This story contains graphic descriptions of sexual interaction between two men. Please do not read it if such things offend you or if you are under the legal age in your area.

"I'll go around the back. You check this way," said Mulder in an undertone, and with a brief nod his partner split away from him, gun at the ready as she slipped into the building. Mulder started around toward the rear, but suddenly a blinding white light glared into his eyes and he threw up a hand to shield them.

"What the-" Blinking furiously, he tried to make out the source of the light.

Scully was just inside the front door when she heard Mulder's inarticulate yell. "Mulder?" she called nervously, moving back to the door and peering out. "What's going on?" No answer. She moved cautiously back into the street and tried to retrace Mulder's steps.

A faint whooshing noise, like a plane passing overhead, was all she heard as she held her breath and listened for footsteps, breathing, voices, anything. But nothing. "Mulder?" she called again, apprehension mounting. She shone her flashlight on the ground and saw a series of footprints in the mud, Mulder's size, leading about halfway down the side of the building and then just stopping. Scully felt a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Hours later, it was Assistant Director Skinner who had to pull Scully away from the scene, leading her to his car with uncharacteristic gentleness. "I have to stay..." she protested weakly, staring in confusion at the milling crowds of FBI agents and forensics people. "Have to find him."

"There's nothing more you can do tonight, Agent Scully," Skinner said as he started the car. "I'm taking you home. You'll need your rest. I want you bright and early tomorrow to start coordinating the manhunt."

Scully sighed. "Yes, sir," she said resignedly, although the tiny part of her that believed knew they wouldn't find Mulder on Earth. He was where he'd always wanted to go....

"Ooh," Mulder groaned as he came to, muzzily blinking to clear his eyes. Colored lights swam and danced before them, as well as a stark metal ceiling pocked with the bruises of age and overuse. Noises pounded through his aching skull, and as soon as his pulse had calmed somewhat, he tried to sort them into individual entities. A soft gentle hum matched the vibrations under his body....and there were voices.

"I cahn't seem to find the aft relays, sir, I do think we're going rahtha too fast, don't you?"

"Grrr!" A beastlike grunting, part growl, part moan.

"....princess, my ass. Acts more like the goddamn Queen of the Galaxy, you ask me."

"They call her the Ice Queen, but it's not true," Mulder muttered, pulling himself to a sitting position. The growling noise was repeated.

"Ohh, welcome back, sleepyhead," a sardonic voice greeted him. "Nice of you to join us, we just love a stowaway now and then, don't we, Chewie?" Grunt. "Pass me the spanner!"

"Who-" Mulder paused to look around. The room was sparsely furnished, everything bolted down and designed for function rather than appearance. Consoles full of lights blinked rhythmically. A huge, hairy......bear?.......sat crosslegged on the floor, fiddling with a squat cylindrical device. A golden robot stood in the corner, half hidden by wiring and opened panels. And a human man rose out of a hole in the floor, his legs hidden inside it, tools in both hands. He was naked to the waist, muscular, tanned and scarred in several places. Mulder licked suddenly dry lips and ventured, "Umm, who are you?"

The man looked up. An expression of incredulity crossed his face. "Who am I? Get a load of this guy! Who am I? Like there's really anyone in this galaxy who doesn't remember me after last month. You gotta be kidding me."

"Last month?"

"What've you, been in prison or something? Or on Tatooine?" He considered this. "Same thing, really."

"Actually, sir," said the golden robot, turning its head, "all Tatooinians are free citizens of the Empire. The only incarceration permitted on the planet is for the purposes of-"

"Shut up," the man said conversationally. He looked at Mulder and rolled his eyes. "Protocol droids." He shook his head and returned to his repairs.

Mulder's head spun. "What happened last month?" he asked again. Could this really be an alien ship?

"I only saved the entire galaxy from enslavement under the Empire," the other man boasted. "Practically singlehanded." The bearlike creature gave another moan, this one with a distinctly skeptical tone. "Hey!" The man shook a wrench warningly at it. "You watch your mouth, fuzzball."

"Sir, I must object," the tall robot put in. "You had considerable help from Mahsta Luke in accomplishing your task, which I might add was not really quite so spectacular as saving the...."

"Hey, did I tell you to shut up, or what? You got those atmospheric controls back online yet, metalman?" Mulder could swear the robot rolled its eyes as it turned back to the wiring.

"Um...excuse did I get here?" Mulder asked tentatively.

"You-" The other man bit off his sharp reply, pausing to really look at Mulder. "You really don't know, do ya? Man, you must be in some deep shit."

"Han, it's cold as Hoth in there," said a mellifluous female voice, and a small woman strode in through a doorway, radiating annoyance. Her dark hair flowed all the way to her butt, and her loose white gown gave her a truly regal did her bearing and tone.

"Yeah, yeah, we're working on it," the man muttered and turned away, his face flushing. Mulder sensed some sexual tension - at least that he could recognize - and felt a flow of relief.

"How did I get here?" he repeated, and thankfully the woman turned toward him, her eyebrows rising.

"You stowed away, of course." She took another look. "Or did you?"

"Naah," the one called Han grumbled unwillingly. "Something freaky stuck him here. He doesn't know jack."

"That's the truth," Mulder agreed, trying to stand up. His head spun and he groaned weakly. The woman was by his side in an instant, kneeling to help him.

"Here, slowly," she counseled. "Be careful." Her hands were soft and refreshingly cool on his face. She helped him stand, and looked up at him: she was as short as Scully - maybe even shorter - and he towered over her. "Come sit down."

Mulder sank gratefully into a chill metal chair. "You really don't know how I got here?"

"No." The woman looked curiously at him. "Don't you?" He shook his head mutely. She sighed.

"If it's not one thing....Hey!" She yelped as the ship (spaceship?!) lurched underneath them. The big hairy creature yowled and raced out of the room.

"Damned autopilot!" the man exclaimed, but stayed where he was.

"I can't believe you rescued me with this piece of crap," the woman said. The man glared at her but said nothing. Clearly this was an old argument.

"I-I'm Fox Mulder," Mulder ventured. "Where are we going?"

"Leia Organa," she said, smiling at him. "That over there is Han Solo, the droids are See Threepio and Artoo Detoo, and the Wookie is called Chewbacca. We're headed for H-the rebel base," she corrected herself.

"What rebels? Against what?"

"Against the Empire - boy, you really are out of it," she observed."You don't know about the Rebellion?" He shook his head mutely.

"Well, it all started several hundred years ago when..." Warming to her tale, the woman, clearly a born politician and storyteller, began a history lesson.

"...and destroyed the Death Star, but we certainly don't fool ourselves that it's the end of the war," she finished some time later. Mulder was listening, fascinated, to the tale of magic, bloodshed and enmity. "So while Luke's on Tatooine burying his aunt and uncle, we're off to the new rebel base to muster the troops and prepare for whatever comes next."

"Wow," was all Mulder could say. "I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore."

"Where's that?"

"Never mind. Look, if you have any tech people who might be able to figure out how I got here, and more importantly, how I can get back..."

"I'll ask Mon Mothma when we arrive," Leia said thoughtfully. "Meanwhile, maybe Artoo can analyze the readings from the area where you appeared." The short round droid beeped cooperatively. "Meanwhile, you might as well make yourself at home. I'll find you a bunk."

"Just don't touch anything," Han grumbled.

Later, having slept somewhat uneasily on a low metal cot, Mulder awoke and went in search of a restroom. Passing by the main room of the ship, he heard Leia and Han arguing in low voices. He stopped when he heard his name.

" a spy for the Empire for all we know! And we're taking him right into the middle of the Rebel stronghold?"

"Don't you think I know that? But he's clearly confused; I'm positive he's not faking that."

"If you say so, Princess, it's your funeral. I don't even know why I'm bothering to try and help you."

"That makes two of us."

"But I'll tell you this: as long as he's on my ship, I'm keeping a close eye on him."

"I think that's a good idea."

"Oh, I'm so glad to have your approval, Your Highness. Now do you mind? I'm trying to get a little rest before we have to make our descent."

"Great. Let's hope it makes you a bit friendlier." She turned on her heel and swept out through the other door. Han rolled his eyes.


Mulder slid into the room quietly and faced Han. The spacer still wore no shirt, and had kicked off his boots, so the only thing he wore was a pair of boxer shorts. He gave Mulder a look that was calculatedly devoid of all emotion, be it surprise, fear, anger, or anything else.

"I just wanted to let you know I don't blame you," Mulder told him. "My motto has been 'Trust no one' for so long I can't remember living any other way."

It might have been his imagination, but he thought Han's expression softened somewhat. "There's really no other way to survive under the Empire. A guy's gotta watch his back. Not that everyone understands that," he added sourly, looking the way Leia had gone.

"Why do you let her get to you like that?" Mulder asked, moving forward to sit on the stool by Han's bed.

"I dunno." Han looked pensive. "Maybe it's just been so long since I was close to know?"

"Yeah." Mulder nodded. "Well, good luck with that one."

Han scowled. "I think I'm giving up on her. Hell, it's more trouble than it's worth for a few minutes of gratification."

"Is that what you think?" Mulder asked, and they looked at each other for a long moment.

Later, Mulder was never fully able to explain to himself why it seemed so right, but at the time, it didn't seem strange at all to lean over and put his hand on Han's bare chest. Han, for his part, seemed mesmerized by Mulder's soft pouty mouth; he stared at it for an eternal moment before leaning over to kiss it with a hard, brutal force. Mulder's eyes fluttered shut as he savored the sensation, the utterly alien taste of Han's lips.

It was strange (he thought later), but he didn't even mind knowing that Han was murmuring Leia's name as he tugged Mulder roughly onto the bed and climbed on top of him. And stranger still, perhaps, that even as he submitted himself to Han's touch - ungentle hands on his suddenly bare legs, that hot rough mouth on his throat, sharp teeth snapping at his nipples - that Mulder was thinking about Scully, millions of miles and who knows how many years away, looking for him...

But then there were two hot hard erections rubbing together, and both men forgot the fiery women of their imaginations and concentrated only on the sweaty men of the moment's reality. Mulder sighed with pleasure as Han's weight pressed him down into the bed. Han groaned with delight as his hands felt for Mulder's tight ass and prodded it open to his seeking fingers. In another instant he had flipped Mulder over onto his stomach - the agent marveling at Han's lithe strength - and, lubricating himself with a bit of saliva, Han pressed his way into Mulder's welcoming rear.

Mulder kept his eyes shut and enjoyed the multiple sensations washing over him. It wasn't his first time; he knew how to relax his sphincter to make the invasion easier, and the feeling was delicious. As Han began to pump with slow, smooth strokes, the motion caused Mulder's rigid cock to rub against the mattress underneath, and the resulting friction made him gasp and groan into the pillow.

Han, frustrated from months of spaceflight with only the Wookie for companionship, reached his peak swiftly and cried out softly, inarticulately, collapsing on top of Mulder. He rested for only a moment before withdrawing; then he flipped Mulder over again and moved down to wrap his wet mouth around the agent's burning erection. Mulder bit his lip to keep from crying out, and heard himself grunting with building pleasure as Han scraped his teeth across the sensitive length. Mulder's climax came suddenly, startling them both as he bucked upwards, hips thrusting urgently against Han's mouth. But the space pilot stayed with him, sucking down the milky liquid as it spurted out until there was none left.

Without a word, Han got up and went into the bathroom. Mulder sat up as well and pulled on his rumpled clothing. After a moment he left the room and went to find another bathroom.

Not two hours later, they made their descent into the rebel base. Mulder paced the length of the common room of the Millenium Falcon until Leia got annoyed and impatiently ordered him to sit still. He sat and fidgeted, then followed Leia into the cockpit. Han glanced at him, but that was all; the pilot was uncharacteristically subdued, and Mulder caught Leia giving Han a couple of odd sideways looks.

They landed without incident and Leia immediately disappeared with the strategists and war leaders. Han went off with the head mechanic to discuss repairs, and Mulder was left with the Wookie and the two droids.

"If you'll come this way, Mahsta Mulda, we can hook Artoo up to the main database over here," Threepio said courteously, and Mulder, overwhelmed by the milling crowds of people of all shapes and colors and by the strange intriguing machinery, followed the droids as if in a daze.

Half an hour of mind-numbing boredom later, just as Mulder began to think he would go insane from listening to the short droid's unintelligible beeping, Threepio gave an exclamation of triumph. "Ah!"

"Ah? What?!" Mulder demanded.

"It appears we have found something. We shall have to consult the head engineer." Threepio activated his commlink. "Your Highness, may we have a word?"

Leia brought the head engineer, who analyzed the data as R2D2 spat it out. "Well, you're in luck," he said finally, beaming at Mulder. "This is fascinating stuff. I'll give you a complete printout to take back for your science people."

"Great. Thanks," Mulder said with honest gratitude, and allowed himself a slight chuckle as he anticipated Scully's reaction to being presented with an alien printout of data on a strange man-eating warp hole in the fabric of space-time. Or whatever. "So when can you get me back?"

"Whenever you like. Right away, if you prefer," the engineer said. "We'll just hook this droid up to a power source and he should be able to generate the right kind of frequency."

"I'd better get going then," Mulder said reluctantly. "My partner will be worried."

Leia smiled up at him. "It was nice meeting you, Mulder. Thanks for putting up with us. I'm sorry if Han was a little brusque."

You don't know the half of it, Mulder thought, but as he bent to brush her cheek with his lips, he said only "It's no big deal. Tell him I said so long, and thanks."

"I will."

"Oh, and Leia?" She looked questioningly at him. "Give him a break, okay? All that macho is just a cover. He really cares what you think about him." Mulder turned to the engineer. "Ready whenever you are."

" goes!"

The last sight Mulder had of the Rebel base was with Leia in the foreground, her expression surprised and intrigued.

"Mulder, how am I supposed to present this to Skinner? Do you have any idea how ridiculous it sounds?" Scully said wearily, rubbing her forehead. She sat by Mulder's hospital bedside, her clothing rumpled from too much time working, her hair in disarray, her eyes tired. "We searched for you for four days and found nothing. Nothing. Not a fiber of clothing or hair, not a footprint, not a busted cellphone, nada. Zip. Zilch. And then you suddenly just reappear looking completely chipper and claiming to have been involved in an interstellar war with golden robots and spaceships flown by Bigfoot? I suppose next you're going to say you wooed the beautiful princess?"

"Well, actually..."

"I don't want to hear it, Mulder." She put up a hand to stop him. "Just tell me something I can put in the report that Skinner will accept."

"Okay...put down that I was confused and disoriented most of the time, so I don't really know what actually happened."

Scully grunted. "That's the first sensible thing you've said to me in years." She began to write. "He'll certainly buy that. You're practically always confused and disoriented." Mulder grinned.

"It's your intoxicating presence, Scully. You turn me into a raving lunatic."

"Mulder, for that you don't need any help." She put away her pen and sighed. "I've got to go present this report to Skinner, like, now. Wish me luck. It's a good thing you're supposedly incapacitated, or I'd make you do this yourself."

"I'm sure you'll be great, Scully. Knock 'em dead." Mulder gave her his best innocent puppy-dog-eyes look. She shook her head resignedly and stood up.

"I'll be back later in the day to see how you're doing. Get some rest, Mulder."

"May the force be with you," Mulder said to her back, and then he lay back and stared at the ceiling in consternation.

"What the hell did that mean?"

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joan the english chick
Last updated 24 November 1997