Before he knew it there was a gun pointed at him. He couldn’t very well stun her, and neither could he risk doing anything that could scare Charlie into shooting him. He slowly raised his hands up high and signed his name to her where she could see it.
Charlie dropped the weapon to her side instantly, stumbling towards him. She looked lost and confused. Her face had blood on it from headbutting that man but also from a split lip and the gag still tied tight to her jaw. She was covered in dirt, her uniform gone and replaced by some white dress that she certainly hadn’t left in. At least the dress was knee length and looked standard for the locals. Her legs were cut and bleeding from her attempts to anchor herself down. As soon as she was within reaching distance of him she spun, tilting her head back to him and indicating that he untie her mouth. She even let out a pointed whine to get his attention.
Time and effort led him to a small base in the depths of the desert. Spock had the advantage of being raised on a desert planet and found no discomfort from his journey with the proper supplies. He scouted the area with Starfleet issued binoculars, finding the holes in their defense to be quite gaping.
Quietly he infiltrated their base, moving swiftly until he heard a commotion nearby. The binoculars revealed one of the gang members dragging Charlie through the dust. She fought to resist but was unsuccessful. He watched as the man slapped her and took aim with his combat rifle. Setting it to the highest stun setting, he waited for the right opportunity.
As soon as he saw the weapon aimed at her he fired. The man dropped like a stone.
Charlie would have screamed around the gag if she could have, body jerking away as he hit the ground like a ton of bricks. She back instantly before scurrying forward and grabbing for his weapon. She worked it between her fingers and backed away, pretty unsure where the shot had come from. She also wasn’t going to take any chances. She found herself crouching behind another rock formation to keep the formation between her body and the gunman.
Tears were springing to her eyes, more from frustration then anything else. She was trying to decide if she should run or not. The gunman could be her back up or it could be a rival gang. She was weighing the options, mouth still bound, when her hearing aides picked up another scuffle. She lifted the weapon and spun, leveling it at the persons chest.