It had been a trap. The distress call, the scattered debris, and weakened life signs had all been staged in an elaborate plan to lure in victims. When the Starfleet officers discovered the deception, they found themselves under hostile fire. Harris had died instantly from a knife attack. Immediately after, Spock was stunned.
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He woke hours later, a prisoner aboard an illicit slave ship. The captain, an Orion female, had personally taunted him with the knowledge that McCoy, mortally wounded, could not survive to get off the planet.
Nyota, she had refused to discuss; however, Spock could sense that his lover was alive. He reasoned that their numerous shared melds would allow him to perceive her demise. As his recollection poured forth, he realised he had been correct in his beliefs, because even though he was nearly unconscious from his drugging, he heard the commotion she had created at the auction.
Minutes more of continued silence and bitter memories convinced Spock that it was time he open his eyes. He blinked a few times and the room came into clear focus. It was dimly lit, tiny, and sparse. Not even a synthesizer or computer in sight. He sat up and felt a wash of dizziness that caused him to grasp at the sheets. The freedom of movement made him pause to look down at his hands and fingers.
Interesting how much we take for granted throughout our daily lives. Before his capture he had never consider the freedom to use his hands.
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Nonetheless, even now, there was a snug metallic bracelet at his right wrist. Rising to his feet, Spock noticed an open door that led to the facilities. He desperately wanted to cleanse his body, but the exit door was of utmost importance. With silent steps, he went to it and tried the lock. He sighed and rested his forehead against it. He was still a captive. On entering the bathroom, he found a water shower and clean linen clothing.
Deciding not to waste anymore time, he removed his underwear, turned on the shower and set the controls to hot. He welcomed the luxury of cleaning away more than a week's worth of grime. Yet, as he lathered the citrus-scented soap across his wet skin, he was wary of his surroundings. Who had bought him? What was their purpose? Where was Nyota?
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He wondered when he would once more see his shipmates. Because as soon as he was able, he would find his way back to the Enterprise and if he had to spend the rest of life searching for Nyota then so be it. For a second time he was struck by the things taken for granted. Nyota had become a constant necessary presence in his life. He was uncertain as to how he would endure without her. Clean and dressed, Spock returned to the room, to find the sheets of his bed changed and that he was not alone. Leaning against the exit door was a tall muscular male, with pleasant angular features and garbed in cream robes.
Ships, Slaves and Sadists : SACRED HUNGER, By Barry Unsworth (Doubleday: $25; 630 pp.)
He looked human, except for the large solid silver eyes and the reddish tint to his skin. Spock found it disconcerting that he had not heard the arrival of this man. His companion regarded him for a few more seconds then answered. Spock was knowledgeable of each Federation member and so it was with certainty that he knew Arellus was not a member. Ranu laughed and stepped further into the room. Spock remained motionless as Ranu circled him, his mind calculating the most efficient series of attack.
Attack me and that bracelet on your wrist will deliver pain directly into your nervous system.
Sacred Hunger Summary
Agony worse than he had experienced on the slave ship wracked Spock's body for a few seconds, robbing him of all other sensations. Ranu stepped back and continued speaking, "Now as to your question, my gods insisted on something new, and you are that something. Spock frowned and stared at the other man. Of all the bizarre things he had encountered throughout the eighteen months of Enterprise's mission, this was entirely new.
Bewildered, Spock watched the priest exit his glorified prison cell. He decided that his first priority was to meditate. His mind was in disarray, his emotions on the surface. To survive and escape he would need his discipline, especially while dealing with Ranu and the others of his species. Story Story Writer Forum Community. Movies Star Trek: How do they survive in a world where lust and desire can be manipulated at any given moment?
Mature subject matter. Disclaimer: Star Trek and all associated characters are not mine. Thanks to Spocklovescats who beta'd parts of this story.
All mistakes are mine. Do we understand each other? By the time the Liverpool Merchant is ready to leave the African coast with its valuable human cargo, the crew is stewing with resentment, sick with fever, hungry and thirsty. The ship reeks of excrement, is infested with rats; slaves and crew alike sicken and die, and, appropriately, the ship wallows for days in the hot African doldrums. His son Erasmus, whose narcissism Unsworth goes to somewhat excessive lengths to establish, sinks into temporary disgrace, losing, in the process, his beloved Sarah.
But this is a large and multifaceted work, almost Tolstoyan in moral and literary scope, and its beauties and strengths far outweigh these blemishes. Unsworth takes hold of the most central moral question--the causes of and responses to evil--and builds around it an entirely realistic world peopled by men and women--white, black and red--whom we care about until the last word.
In the course of this page voyage, we are treated to numerous finely wrought scenes, any one of which is worth the tribulations of rough weather. It requires a writer of consummate skill to pack all of the above into a serious novel while at the same time doing justice to the horrors of the slave trade.
The preeminence of those values--persisting in diluted form to this day--is what once allowed us to rationalize the selling of men and women. About Us. Brand Publishing.