Laila, Spock's Granny (Book 1: Vulcan Gladiatoress and Klingon Slave)

Enslaved 1

Picture = Versan, Laila's first owner

I was in my bed in my room in our house in our settlement, my head buried in my mom's lap. She tenderly caressed my head and I was all happy. In order to be a bit more comfortable I turned to my side. My foot had gotten entangled into something which prevented it from me moving it appropriately. I opened my eyes and recognized the Klingon army tents. Being home had just been a dream. From happiness to despair in less than a second. They had tied my legs to one of the bunk beds to keep me restrained.

"You have fought well Laila, but you stood no chance", I heard my mom tell me. "After you were victorious they shot you unconscious with a phaser."

Looking around, I recognized, that the barracks were almost empty now, only two more pretty old Vulcans were still here with us.

My mother pleaded, tears in her eyes: "Laila, please stand down. Such fights are useless. You could have gotten killed. You will always be outnumbered. No matter how well you fight, you are doomed to loose." After a pause, she continued: "I guess, you are aware, that your buyer didn't wanted you anymore after you have proven yourself to be a terrible threat to his safety. He wanted his gold back. After that, one of the guards whom you had challenged, was about to ram a scimitar right through your chest. For some reason, another, I reckon higher ranking, guard stepped in and stopped him. Not sure, what their plan is with you now, but I fear it is not to your advantage. I hope, they will not torture you!"

Vulcan logic, I had no arguments left, but I had to say something anyways. I could not just keep my mouth shut and process everything quietly: "Grrrh", left my mouth to indicate, that I had understood my mom and did not like it. At the same time, it gave me the opportunity to vent the vapors of anger, which had built up inside of me. Much to my disappointment, just a tiny bit of that angry vapor had left me. I needed to vent a lot more, I just did not know how?

I was in despair. So far, I did have some hope left, but that was all gone by now. Outnumbered, no matter what... No matter what, you are doomed to loose...

About an hour later, another civilian Klingon came into our barracks and gestured my mom to get to her feet. He made her open her mouth, put his ugly claws into her mouth, then moved her dress to inspect her bare skin. I rattled like a chained pit bull in the bunk bed, but my mother just glared at me. After the inspection, the pervert Klingon entered into negotiation with the guards and once they held their gold in their hands, my mom quickly turned to me, gave me a kiss on my forehead and said: "Laila, I love you!"

The buyer dragged her away from the bunk bed and looking at me, she formed her right hand into the Vulcan greeting and cried: "Live long and prosper!"

Horrified I yelled with all my power: "Mooooom!" Seeing her trotting after her buyer, I wept bitterly.

One of the two elderly Vulcans came to me, trying to comfort me: "There is no logic in crying. Either you will see your mother again, or you won't. Crying won't change it."

"To hell with Vulcan logic", was my savage response! I had always been the odd one out. Emotions had been driving me, more than my Vulcan kin could bare or fathom. For my brethren, I was the primitive Vulcan. Showing my emotions like anger, passion, happiness and grief rendered me primitive. They did not understand, why I had gotten born into their space time continuum? 2000 years back, would have been more apt for me. It must have been a mistake of the universe.

My mom and I always had our arguments. I was not an easy child. Mostly, because I did not manage to contain my emotions. Now that she was gone, a piece of my heart had been ripped out and left with her. Every harsh word I had said and every tantrum I had thrown, I deeply regretted now. Often I had been utterly selfish to the one soul who loved me the most. As I see it now, my mom had never been the usual Vulcan mother either. Vulcan mothers did not show their children, that they loved them. Appreciation was only shown as a reward for achievements. My mother however always appreciated me. Well, OK, not when I threw a tantrum, but soon afterwards again. There, that day in that barrack I had lost all hope and I wished to be dead. I wished I had never gotten conceived by my mother's womb and caused her so much grief. I wished, my Klingon soul had not gotten trapped in this Vulcan body of mine. My mother had deserved a well behaved and adapt Vulcan child. She was the best mother one could wish for. Somewhat in the middle of the night sleepiness set in and claimed me. In the morning, when I woke up, in that state halfway between sleep and wake, an idea popped up: I had to break away from the clutches of my captors, find my mom and bring her to Vulcan, no matter how long it would take and how hard it might be. I needed to promise that to myself in order to remain sane. Was that Vulcan logic? After a short evaluation of the idea, I came to the conclusion, that the idea was utterly irrational, indeed. To believe I could escape from a planet full of Klingons, find my mother not even having a glimpse of where she could be on that planet, flying a space craft to Vulcan, where I did not even have one, much less know how to fly it. That was completely irrational and thus I loved the idea and embraced it all the more. It gave me hope and strength. There was no logic behind this crazy idea, but too hell with Vulcan logic.

Yet, after a while, Vulcan logic took over again. If I wanted to break away, it would serve me to be the fiercest fighter of them all, fiercer than any Klingon. My anger, my desire for revenge pushed me. I wanted this. Being the fiercest fighter, the unstoppable berserk. Then I'd kill everyone standing in my way, rescue my mother and fly to Vulcan.

And as the saying goes: Be careful what you wish for! This however, I realized much later.

Around noon, the next day, a Klingon civilian came to inspect me. They must have shown him a video of yesterday's fight, because I heard the laughing and yelling of the Klingons again coming from the communicator he held in his hands. Once the video was finished, two guards held my arms down, while the prospect buyer looked into my mouth, pulled at my limps and stripped me off all cloths, touching every muscle of my body, finally looking me deep in the eyes and nodding. He pulled the gold out of his moneybag and the guards started to tie me up like a parcel. Fettered as I was, I could not fight them. The buyer called for a Klingon boy who pulled said parcel along. Mind you, that parcel was me, a sentient being, which was well capable of feeling pain. The boy was too small and weak to carry me, thus he had to drag me. In addition, he was limping, which made matters worse. The boy's left foot was shorter than the other one and twisted on top. Getting dragged over the floor was painful and rasped at my tender, young skin, but neither my shouting and swearing nor my twisting and shifting did help. In fact it just made matters worse. The Klingon boy with his twisted foot, however, had the hardest time to even drag me to the exit of the tent. Finally, he loosened the straps on my feet so that I could walk by myself. I wanted to kick him, but Vulcan logic made me stand down and get to my feet. I was sure, that boy would be begging for my mercy in no time, but then soon after the guards would overwhelm me again. Thus, kicking the boy would most likely just result in my beautiful, young, tender Vulcan body getting packed up like a parcel again, this time probably even tighter, and dragged along by a Klingon weakling of a boy. Indeed there were more comfortable things in this world, than getting dragged over sand. After all, my mom was gone, what did it help me to give this boy a hard time? A little while ago, I wished Vulcan logic to hell and now I adhered to it??? Maybe, I should decide for one or the other? In any case, I had decided to play along, follow him until I was gestured into the cargo area of a Klingon glider, with retractable seats on the side. The boy opened one seat for me and I sat down while the glider already took off. What I learned later, was that Klingons at that time had already discovered anti-gravitation. Klingons had aircraft, which just had short wings for stabilization. Creating uplift was not necessary, because this was done by the anti-gravitation-generator. As such, they could take off and land vertically. What surprised me, the boy gave me to drink and eat. I watched out through the window, and indeed, we were flying through a desert, until we came to a city or village. I could not really make up my mind, whether this was a city or a village. There was not one proper building. The settlement comprised of conglomerates of containers and tents in various sizes.

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