"It seems the nights are as blistering as the days," Kirk commented, pacing in circles around his and Spock's cell.

Mr. Spock, who was cross-legged atop the stone bed, began educating the Captain, "This planet appears to be tropical by nature. The high levels of humidity that remain in the atmosphere-"

"-Mr. Spock," Kirk stopped, sighing, "we need to figure out how to get out of here; how to contact our ship."

"That seems improbable," Spock replied. "We were unable to detect any intelligent lifeforms or structures from the Enterprise; it is debatable whether or not our communicators can make contact with the Enterprise. That is also dependant on whether or not we can obtain our communicators from the group of slave traders who captured us."

"One thing at a time, Spock," Kirk said, sitting next to him. "First, we must come up with a plan of escape."

"I have analyzed the cell; there are no apparent weaknesses in its architecture," said Spock; "As I have also mentioned before, there are two armed guards for every prisoner here and that is not including the patrol groups that we have seen thus far. Chances of a successful escape are one-million to one. Although, I have rounded those numbers."

"If chances are a million to one, then we better find that one."

Akin to Captain Kirk, Warren feverishly paced in her and Bones' cell, occasionally glancing at the doctor who peered through the shallow window and into the clear night sky.

"We have to do something," Warren spoke to Bones. "We're not killers; we can't go out there and start fighting each other."

"I'm well aware, Susanna," Bones answered, searching the dark sky for the possible twinkle that was the Enterprise. "Maybe if we could talk to Jim and Spock, we could all figure something out."

"We don't have the luxury of relying on the Captain; we can't just give up."

"I'm not giving up." Bones released his grip from the clammy bars, turning to her. "We have to be realistic. As far as I can tell, there's no way out of here."

Susanna gave up her pacing, plopping herself against a wall. "I don't know what to do, Bones. I've never been in this situation before. I'm scared that somebody else is going to die because of me."

"Dale's death wasn't your fault," Bones reached out to her. "That psychotic man did this. And you're right, we're not going to let him get away with that."

Warren's eyes narrowed on the small window as she walked past Bones. "Where's that light coming from?" she asked, pressing her face to the window's bars. "They're lighting torches around the arena. And people are beginning to fill the stands."

"What's all this about?" Bones moved next to her.

"Use your imagination, doctor."

The colosseum was lit with a hundred torches and the crowds that now filled the stands began their murmurings, chattering, and laughter. Spock observed the Caesar return to his predetermined position up in the stands and on his velvet throne. The Caesar smiled and waved, lifting the metallic speaking box to his chin.

"Gentlemen, ladies, cretins!" his boisterous voice echoed through the arena. "Tonight, we will continue our lovely showings! Another one of our new fighters will be going head-to-head against our long-time champion, The Bull Brigade!" his words sent the crowd into a furious uproar.

Through one of the sets of iron gates, Spock watched the young Lieutenant Adebayo get thrown down to the sand by a group of armed guards. The gates opposite of Adebayo screeched open and through them, a towering bull-like creature sauntered in. Similar to the Black Beetle, the bull was more human than animal in nature. It stood on a pair of hooved feet, wearing only a simple loincloth around its waist. In each of its human hands, it held long, curved blades. They were strikingly similar to the ones used in Middle East Earth during the Ottoman period, Spock pointlessly noted to himself.

Wide-eyed, Bones wrung his fists around the window's bars. "What chance does he stand against that beast?!" he cried to Warren.

"I won a fight against a seven-foot beetle," Warren replied.

"That giant bug was obviously a buffoon!" Bones angrily flailed his arm through the bars. "Did you hear the man? He just said that that monster is their long-time champion. We need to get Adebayo out of there!"

"I'm open to suggestions, doctor!" Warren scowled.

Bones paused as her words reminded him of another Vulcan officer; although, hers were filled with emotion that Spock never had. "I don't have any," he finally answered.

Lieutenant Adebayo, who was equipped with a short sword, a round shield, and a cumbersome breastplate, did his best to keep his distance from the large, wild beast. Unfortunately, the heat of the night combined with the burning torches and heavy armor greatly hindered his movements after only a few minutes in the ring.

The mighty bull smacked his swords together. "Small, human, weak; this really isn't a fight, is it?" it spoke to Adebayo. "Not much of a fight at all! You'd think the Caesar could be bothered to pair me with someone who actually knows how to fight! With somebody who can actually do damage!"

Adebayo stared up at the Caesar who now seemed more than displeased. "We can stop this fight, now!" Adebayo beseeched the bull. "I am no more a willing participant than you are!"

Bursting with laughter, the giant bull appealed to the crowd who then joined him in hysterics. "Whether or not you'll put up a good fight, these people still came to see a show! They still came to watch me do what I do best!"

Holding his twin blades in front of him, the giant bull pounced towards Adebayo. The Lieutenant's weapons were flung from his grasp as he crumpled to the ground in a motionless heap. The crowd's roaring and laughter became deafening.

Together, Spock and Kirk stared through their cell window and at the Lieutenant's lifeless body.

"Lieutenant, get up!" Kirk shouted, trying to raise Adebayo from the dead.

Through the Captain's yelling and the endless moaning of the crowd, a more refined reaction of anguish and pain struck Spock's unrelenting Vulcan mind. The Vulcan tensed his muscles, wincing at the pain of the overwhelming emotion.

"Spock? Are you alright?" Kirk asked, noting the Vulcan's discomfort.

"A strong emotional reaction to the situation, Captain," Spock replied, holding his hand to his brow.

"Are you upset that the Lieutenant was killed?"

"I find his death regrettable," Spock acknowledged, lowering himself onto the stone bed, "but it is not I who is experiencing this emotional pain. It is being telegraphed to me."

Kirk crouched onto the floor in front of his Vulcan friend. "Telegraphed?"

"Another being with exceptional telepathic abilities is experiencing a great deal of grief and sadness over Lieutenant Adebayo's death," Spock explained. "Since Vulcans are telepathic by nature, we can easily detect telepathy projected by others. Although the Vulcan mind is trained to filter out this noise in order to protect our own psyche. I, however, cannot filter out this individual due to the strength at which they are telepathically telegraphing their emotions."

"Who could be doing this?" Kirk wondered.

"I already know the answer, Captain. It is Lieutenant Warren."

"Susanna?" Kirk questioned.

"She is half Vulcan," Spock exhaled, feeling a slight amount of relief. "Her emotions have weakened, but even now I can still feel her sadness and despair. Her telepathic abilities carry great strength. I believe we may be able to use our Vulcan connection to communicate with one another."

"What do you mean?"

"Vulcans with strong telepathic abilities can communicate words via their brain waves, Captain," Spock said; "I can attempt to reach out to Lieutenant Warren to establish mental contact."

"Is it safe?" Kirk asked, concerned. "If the strength of her emotion hurts you, will you be able to make mental contact with her and safely maintain it?"

"I can certainly try, Captain."

After realizing Adebayo was dead, Warren slouched to the hard ground in the corner of the cell. Bones gazed into her red eyes, lowering himself next to her and grabbing hold of her pale hands.

"There's nothing we could do," Bones tried to comfort her.

"Who is going to die next?" her eyes glazed over, staring at the empty floor. "I'm not used to this much death, doctor; I'm not used to being around people and watching them die."

"You never get used to it," he answered. "It's not decent or practical or sensible. You never get used to it."

For a few moments, they sat side-by-side in silence, Bones doing his best to keep is own composure for his grieving crewmate when he was suddenly disturbed by a faint whisper.

"Did you hear that?" he asked her.

Warren shook her head, "What? Hear what?"

"I could have sworn I heard someone say your name."

"Who?" she lifted her head. "I don't think I heard anything."

"I thought I heard Spock-" Bones swiftly dismissed the ludicrous notion, "-Never mind. I must be stressed out; tired. I know we both are. You should try getting some sleep, Lieutenant."