Leonard McCoy had never felt a deeper, almost carnal rage than he did right in that moment, trapped hiding in a container box on some god forsaken freighter going to who knew where at the whim of a murderous bounty hunter hell bent on picking up his pay check. Watching Carla Collins trying frantically to break free of her restraints broke his heart, he had wanted to jump out then and there and take on the whole world if necessary when he had watched her try to break her own thumb to get enough purchase to squeeze her hand through the metal cuff. It was no good of course, seen as though her ankles were locked to the chains also. He noticed she would look up to the container he was in from time to time. Squinting through the handle as if trying to see his eyes, seeking reassurance perhaps. He would always return her stare, if she could see his eyes he didn't want her to see the doubt.
The Alikan was still unconscious, obviously heavily tranquilised given their superior strength. McCoy had racked his brain trying to come up with an idea, a plan but to no avail. So what was there left to do but just sit and watch her through the small handle opening? She had given up on the shackles a while ago and had spent the last half hour or so looking around the freighter for an exit, a weapon, a communication device. Every so often her eyes would focus in McCoy's direction and he would look back at her, he could tell she was scared but he could also tell that she hadn't given in and that was the only thing keeping him going. They were going to fight their way out of this, or die trying.
McCoy could hear Sarraf speaking to somebody and then feel the tell-tale signs of the freighter docking. His heart was in his throat, from his vantage point he couldn't see any movement but he could hear it. He held his breath and watched as Carla steeled herself in readiness for whatever was going to happen next.
"Sweetness, it's time to go." McCoy's line of sight was blocked, he could only hear the sound of Carla's shackles rattling.
"Listen to me please, let me go now and I promise you I'll make sure Starfleet treat you favourably. It's not too late…" McCoy closed his eyes in awful anticipation.
"The only person you should be worried about being treated favourably is yourself Sweetness, now, be a good little thing and do as I say. You give me a problem and I'll knock out those pearly whites of yours." The pair of them turned slightly allowing McCoy to see them, Sarraf was holding Carla's jaw tightly as he spoke to her pulling another chain from the wall, this time attaching it around Carla's neck with a heavy clunk. The other end attached to a large wide belt around Sarraf's waist. Sarraf grabbed the chain and yanked it hard, pulling Carla to her knees, wrenching the restraint upward Carla's hands instinctively went to her neck, trying to pull it away from her whilst also keeping her balance on her knees. Sarraf laughed heartily tugging at the chain, walking out of the freighter and out of McCoy's eye line.
"Shit!" McCoy whispered to himself, he knew he couldn't lose sight of them. Waiting a few minutes longer he slowly opened the container lid, looking around he couldn't see anybody. He climbed out and stood, stretching his legs and back. Looking around the freighter he knew he had to act fast, grabbing a dirty leather jacket that was hung up on one of the walls he quickly put it on and zipped it up hiding his uniform underneath. A dark scarf hid most of his face and he grabbed a large knife which he stuck down the back of the waist of his trousers. Walking towards the back of the freighter he took three long deep breaths.
Pressing the button so that the door slid open McCoy's senses were assaulted with an overload of sights, smells and sounds. He quickly made a dash for a darkened corner, pulling himself close to the wall he watched the crowds of people walk past him. They were on a station of some kind, it was old and dark and McCoy could tell many of the corridors, rooms and materials had been repurposed and replaced multiple times.
Vendors had set up on corners and the grated floors and ceilings allowed smoke and the smells of alien foods cooking to rise and fall all around him. Shouting came from bays, somewhere is the distance he could hear the sound of music and betting machines. The people were from all over the galaxy, some smiling and laughing, others trying to keep a low profile. McCoy allowed himself to be swept into the crowd, making sure the scarf stayed on the bridge of his nose. His eyes darted from left to right, trying to find any sign of Carla. Makeshift signs told punters what was for sale from each of the market stalls, weapons, booze, women.
McCoy stopped walking, pushing his way out of the horde he stopped outside a large door being guarded by an even larger man.
"I'm looking to buy something." McCoy ground out, the man, who hadn't looked at him yet continued to survey the crowd as he spoke.
"What are you in the market for?" He asked.
"Women." McCoy answered, the man looked at him briefly and then rolled his eyes.
"The whore house is further down, on deck seven." He answered dismissively, McCoy took a step forward.
"I don't think you understand, I don't mean I'm looking to buy by the hour. I'm in the market for a…permanent transaction." McCoy watched the realisation pass over the man's face. "If you could point me in the right direction, well I'd be grateful." McCoy watched him contemplate whether or not to tell him then he learnt forward and whispered directions. "Thanks." McCoy gave him a nod and slipped back into the crowd, allowing it to carry him away again.
When McCoy found the place he was looking for the man on the door patted him down, when he felt the knife in McCoy's waist he looked at him briefly but didn't say anything
"No touching the merchandise, understand?" The man instructed.
"Understood." McCoy replied.
"You break it you buy it." The man pushed the door open and McCoy walked through, the place was dark and awful music was playing loudly. Women dressed in next to nothing walked round with drinks and served the patrons of the bar that was in the back of the room. The 'patrons' were from everywhere, some clearly exceedingly wealthy, others obviously traders and were simply there for the sake of business only.
"Can I get you a drink?" McCoy turned and saw that one of the waitresses was looking at him expectantly, a fake smile plastered to her face.
"No thank you." He answered curtly.
"Suit yourself." The woman walked off without a second look his way.
McCoy sat himself in a corner, away from prying eyes. Watching the room he noticed deals being made at every table, he searched for Sarraf but he couldn't see him. He knew he had to be there, that Carla would be there too. He just had to bide his time. His attention was diverted from a small fight taking place near the entrance way to the loud presenter who had jumped up on the small circular platform in the middle of the room.
"Folks, if I could have your attention please! The auction is about to start!" McCoy was listening intently but as the man spoke he spotted Sarraf walk in and sit down at the opposite side of the room. He wanted to go over to him then and there and slit his throat, dragging his gaze away he sat up slightly when he noticed a large man begin to pull in a group of men and women up and onto the platform. Each one of them was chained by the neck and dressed in a flimsy smock that lead very little to the imagination. "We have some high quality merchandise for you this evening! Something for everybody I can assure you." McCoy was staring at the faces of the seven men and women stood on the stage, none of them were Carla. McCoy began to panic, scared that he had made a mistake, that he was in the wrong place but looking back to Sarraf he knew he wasn't. The auction was much like any other, the men and women were paraded around and the crowd shouted out bids and offers. Some went for very little, some, the more healthy, rare and attractive went for more. When all seven were sold the host quietened the room.
"Now, do we have something special for you! This is not your normal merchandise folks, this one is for the connoisseurs, the collectors, the professionals. The aficionados in the audience will instantly be able to tell that our next lot is worth every penny!" McCoy watched as the man from earlier appeared again, chain in hand like before. Only this time there was only one woman attached by the neck to the chain.
"My god!" McCoy whispered. "Cece."
"Let's start the bidding shall we?"