Chapter 16

Jim

Jim watched as the warrior disappeared from sight. His eyes then settled on T'Palla who then met his eyes with her own sorrowful gaze. We are doomed. She insisted as her gaze flickered between him and the horizon. Jim sighed causing the ache in his side to flare painfully, he was tired of a lot of things, most of all, of unanswered questions.

"What did she mean, that our freedom must be earned?" He asked in Vulcan. The girl them looked at him intently before answering.

There are rituals that are uniform amongst our kind and respected by all regardless of status or tribal affinity. One of which is the Koon-ut-kal-if-fee. She murmured seemingly lost in her own thoughts.

"Marriage or challenge?" Jim translated looking confused. "What does that have to do with our freedom?" He probed unwilling to let the subject drop before he received an answer.

It is difficult for a foreigner to grasp the concept. Vulcan male slaves have a chance to win their freedom through this rite. If they are able to prevail in a fight with the females intended mate, then they have won the right to her hand and with it their freedom. It is not as easy for a female slave. They cannot challenge for marriage rights and will only be freed if a free male chooses to fight for their hand, which is very rare. That is why I was willing to risk death in order to escape; my chance at earning my freedom is slim to nil. T'Palla struggled to explain looking frustrated.

Jim frowned. It seemed as though they both were in an unbeatable situation. Jim could never hope to win a fair fight with a Vulcan, especially now with a serious injury. Jim's thoughts briefly drifted towards another escape, but that possibility was slim at best. The element of surprise was gone and they were likely to be out under a tight watch. Not to mention that Jim wouldn't get far injured. Jim closed his eyes as he thought of Spock. Where was he? Was he looking for him? Or had he written him off as a lost cause? It certainly seemed as though that were now the case; lost causes, both of them. Jim thought bitterly with a glance at his young Vulcan companion.

Is there any other way to earn freedom? Jim questioned in last ditch effort for ideas. T'Palla tilted her head in thought before replying.

Perhaps, if we had something of considerable value with which to barter, it may be possible, but we are both without anything of considerable worth. She looked at Jim sadly. Jim groaned and tried to hold back the wave of hopelessness, which threaten to overtake him.

Your tribes are nomadic, so we will be constantly moving? Jim asked with a defeated gaze in T'Palla's direction for confirmation. She nodded solemnly. The odds of Spock finding them were practically non-existent, assuming that he was even still looking. Jim shut his eyes and leaned against a nearby tree with a pained hiss as it came in contact with his side. His side hadn't fully healed and blood oozed from it sluggishly staining the trunk and his fingers as he applied pressure. If this kept up, Jim wouldn't have to worry about his freedom much longer, he would die of sepsis due to an untreated wound.

Meanwhile

Spock stopped to wipe the sweat off of his brow. He took a sip of water noting that he was perspiring heavily. His internal cooling adaptation was failing to do its job of allowing high volume circulation of cool blood in order to regulate temperature without sweating, which could easily prove to be fatal in desert conditions. It was an ominous sign that Pon Farr was underway and Plak Tow would soon follow. Spock couldn't be sure, but he had a gut feeling that Jim may be within reach. He could vaguely sense his presence with his shields now in disarray, but was unable to pinpoint his exact location. Spock grit his teeth in frustration. Time was running out. He looked around desperately and as luck would have it, Spock had spotted a smear of red on the trunk of a soltar tree. Even his current unstable state due to the impeding Plak Tow, Spock knew that it warranted further investigation. Spock and Bones had approached the tree for a closer look. Blood, it resembled blood. Spock felt his hopes rise. It was fresh and stained his fingers as he touched it and then brought it to his nose. The distinct smell of iron-based human blood filled his nose. Jim. It must be Jim's. He brought his fingers to Bones, allowing him to scent the blood. "Bones, find Jim." Spock urged while trying to calm his lust which had been growing stronger with the more time that pasted. The sehlat seemed to understand and sniffed the tree trunk as well as Spock's fingers. He moved around the area for a few minutes, scenting the ground and air, before taking off at a run with Spock following behind him. Spock could only hope that they would find Jim before it was too late.