Love is Illogical ; Spock

Chapter four

I awoke in a bed in sick bay with doctor McCoy hovering over me checking my vitals.

"You're awake" he stated, almost surprised at this. The man was a doctor? It was his job to make sure I was in full health, conscious and all, was it not? Humans, I reasoned.
"Well obviously, doctor" I answered with a roll of my eyes before I blinked them furiously, trying to adjust to the light that flooded them as Doctor McCoy settled back and allowed all the light to assault my senses.
"Spock's explained why you passed out so you should be alright." He said looking at a chart. "Well as alright as some one who's just been hit with the equivalent of a sonic grenade can get I guess. Lucky for you you have the best doctor in the galaxy."
"Yes..."I said slowly getting up. I felt mildly dizzy. Perhaps I shoud take time to meditate and return my body to normal. That seemed like the best course of action.

"Esha to bridge acknowledge" rang out.
"Acknowledged". No meditation then I grumbled as I waved farewell to Bones and headed towards the direction of the bridge.

"The captain and Chekov beamed down an hour ago and Dr McCoy is beaming now. We are obviously not going because of the incident that happened last time. So our need is to deduce what was the source of the sonic was and if it poses a threat to the landing party." Sock said, wasting no time on greeting as I entered the bridge.

I fought the urge to stare at with an incredulous look on my face, perhaps roll my eyes? Stick my tounge out and make a 'doh' noise? All ideas were unbecoming of a Vulcan yet all were perfect to convey how blind Spock and the crew were being. Stupid was the word that sprang to mind.

I stared at him blankly for a good twenty seconds and hoped that conveyed my point.

"Well if the economy is based on the slave trade..."
"Other races would be valuable." Spock concluded, finishing my sentence. Realisation hopefully was beginning to dawn on him. A slow clap, while inappropriate, was in order,

"Yes so humans would make valuable slaves." I continued. "Vulcans probably more so due to our telepathic nature and increased strength."
"So you're postulating that sonic was some kind of..."
"Net." I concluded. "Knocks the target unconscious, easy pickings."
"Yes and it would have affected us first because of our superior level of hearing." He nodded, agreeing with my theory. "We need to move now."

24.2 miuites later

We were running towards a building. It looks like a holding place of some kind. Slavers, lovely.

I know instinctively that this is dangerous. Very dangerous.
We reach the door and open it. It's unlocked.

"We're expected" I stated.
"It seems so." he replied quietly. "I have a bad feeling about this."
"I have several."

We opened the door and quietly stepped in. It appeared to look like some kind of an auction house. It was clean with folding seats, hardwood floors and a raised podium.

"Cover your ears and try to look less Vulcan." he instructed pulling out a hat and pulling it on his head so that it covered his ears.
This isn't going to work.

I pulled the few pins in my head out and let my long hair tumble but of course my ears poked through the top so I had to adjust it. "I sincerely doubt the viability of this plan." I muttered as we walked through the reflection area. "Although I realise there is perhaps little time to theorise a different strategy."

We walked to the front desk. "We are looking for human slaves, late to middle 20's?" Spock asked.

"Yes, was the door open? The auction doesn't start for another hour. I'll get someone to privately show you to the cells." The woman questioned, writing something down in a ledger and pressing something under the desk.

A brawny tan man with a very plain face walked around the corner. "Follow me" he said in a gruff, gravely voice.

He leads us towards the cells and when we reach them he pushes us in and slams the door shut. I hear the bolt slide into place with a heavy sounding clink .
"Knew it wouldn't work." I huffed at Spock. "I am not built for field work."