Captive

Neither of them were prepared for what awaited them in the main transporter room. Dr. McCoy and a medtech Kirk didn't recognise were on the transporter platform, bent over the person who'd been beamed aboard so abruptly. Mr. Scott was off to one side, having been summoned by McCoy. Another medtech was standing by with an antigrav stretcher ready. Kyle had been equally unprepared and was still standing behind the operating console although transport was complete.

McCoy looked up as they approached. The captain nearly took a step back. He couldn't remember when he'd seen his chief medical officer so angry.

"Bones...what is it? What have we got?" Kirk asked as he mounted the platform.

The doctor moved aside to let him see. The captain gasped and Spock shut his eyes momentarily to compose himself.

The ship's recent arrival was humanoid and female. She was covered in bruises, slash marks, and burns. The white glare of a bone end could be seen protruding from one leg. The visible injuries were horrific. The internal ones could only be imagined. Possibly Dr. McCoy and the Captain had seen worse, although not by much. Perhaps the real horror was the fact that the woman was bound and gagged. Her arms were tied to her sides with thin cords that reflected the light in a peculiar way. Her feet and legs were bound together as well. More cords wound around her head and neck served as a gag. Kirk had never seen anything like this before.

The strangely coloured cords were reactive tension threads, outlawed in the Federation. Once wrapped around the victim and the frequency set, they tightened in response to any movement which tensioned them further. The greater the movement, the greater the tension. A victim's struggles can result in amputation of limbs, and worse.

"Scotty! Can you cut these damn things off?" Mc Coy barked. Mr. Scott knew the anger was not directed at him, and was thankful for that.

"Aye, just need to find the frequency ." the chief engineer replied, stepping forward with an assortment of instruments. The material from which the threads were grown was impervious to most cutting tools. Nearly everything that would cut through would damage the victim first. The only safe option was to find the release frequency which would then alter the molecular structure sufficiently to allow removal. He set to work cursing all barbarians under his breath.

After what seemed like several weeks, but in fact was only a few minutes, a triumphant "Gotcha!" was heard. The cords had changed colour, or more precisely, reflectivity. At last Mr. Scott was able to cut the cording away with an ordinary cutter. He removed the now inert and harmless threads from the woman's body very gently.

In his shock Captain Kirk hadn't yet thought to ask if the woman was even alive. "Bones, how is she?" he enquired softly, although it seemed like a ridiculous question. How could anyone survive injuries of that magnitude?

McCoy had continued monitoring and attempting to stabilise the victim's condition. The medtech closest to him kept feeding him instruments and sprayhypos as the commands came. "She's alive, Jim. Just. Damned if I know why!" he replied without looking up. "If I catch the monster who's done this..." In his anger he didn't finish.

Kirk grimaced. "I think you'll find there's a line ahead of you when you do Bones"

Mr. Spock had been standing to one side, as horrified as the others, although only someone who knew him extremely well would have known it. He now approached the group on the platform and knelt to examine the woman in his own thorough manner.

She was dressed in a torn and filthy generic overall. One sleeve was mostly torn away, and a battered arm was visible. Despite the dirt, blood and bruising, he saw several curious marks which formed a line from the shoulder joint nearly to the elbow on the inside of her arm. A glance at the other arm showed a few more marks. Some appeared to be laser tattoos, some incised, and some burned into the flesh.

He sat back on his heels. "Captain, I believe I know what the smugglers were attempting to transport." he said quite calmly.

Kirk , McCoy, and the others stopped as though the first officer had shouted at them. All eyes were on Spock as various people drew their own conclusions. The first officer pointed to the marks on the woman's arm. "Those are marks of ownership. The most recent looking one, here, is Klingon. I do not recognise most of the others. This woman is, or rather was, a slave."

The little group huddled around the stricken woman was silent. If it was possible for them to be more shocked, they were. Slavery! It was more or less the foulest crime one could commit within the Federation. Planets which practised slavery were refused admission to the United Federation of Planets, full stop. Even arms smuggling and terrorism earned a relative slap on the wrist. The penalties for trading in lives were far more severe. There was nothing to say really. One never quite believed such a thing existed until confronted with it.

The doctor was supervising the transfer of the victim to the antigrav stretcher. Other medical staff were waiting in Sickbay with everything in readiness. As the medical group left, Captain Kirk and the others stood up. Scotty was shaking his head, Spock outwardly impassive as usual. There was little else for them to do until the woman regained consciousness and could speak for herself. Neither Dr. McCoy nor Mr. Scott had heard about the fate of the smugglers yet. They would undoubtedly have expressed little sympathy.

The captain resisted the temptation to follow his chief surgeon to Sickbay. McCoy and his staff would have their hands full as it was.They'd keep him posted. He walked slowly over to the wall communicator. "Kirk to bridge.."

"Uhura here Captain" the lieutenant replied.

"Resume course for the Beta Casarii system. I'll be up shortly. Kirk out"

"Acknowledged" she replied. "Bridge out. Mr. Sulu...would you do the honours, please?" Sulu smiled and nodded.

"Resuming original course as plotted" he said. The Enterprise had been station keeping where the late and unlamented smugglers had met their deaths. Sulu reset the course and the ship came about.The bridge complement was waiting for news of what transpired in the transporter room. "What do you think is going on?" he asked no one in particular.The replies were various shrugs and head shakes. It would have to wait for the usual intraship communication network.

Kirk and Spock left the transporter room. The captain shook his head as if to clear it. Mr. Spock did not need to ask what was wrong. He knew his friend well enough, and remained silent. Kirk needed some time alone to work things out. Spock would work things out, in his own way, later.

"Spock, I'm going to get some coffee or something...log this incident in full detail. Then find out what Federation procedure is in these cases. Rehabilitation, that sort of thing.See if McCoy can get an ID on our guest. I think it will be a while before she can tell us who she is.

Spock nodded in acknowledgement. The captain would dictate his log when he was ready.

"And Spock..." Kirk continued. He faced his first officer and looked carefully into the Vulcan's face.

"Yes, Captain?" Spock replied, mind already organising his work. "Was there something else?"

Kirk shrugged. He knew his friend. Sometimes he wished he had the same control over his emotions that Spock had. However the strain and revulsion were evident , if one knew how to look. Which Jim did. "No. Carry on."

chapter 3