Inspects him.

The bound muscular man continues his defiant dead stare while clenching his fist preparing for more **** and humiliation. Kenya stays in cover, assuming she is being monitored, and acts as if she is a mistress inspecting her new property. Her simple looking communicator, greatly enhanced by Star Fleet IT, shows that the warrior has recently been treated for a traumatic chest wound similar to a small explosion or ancient gun shot. It is, however, the only sign of modern technology ever used on his body. It appears he might be truly from 19th century earth, but the only way to be sure is to place a bio sample into the com's analysis port, which means blood, saliva, or . . . Kenya gives a frustrated sigh concluding there is only fluid sample that wouldn't look suspicious.

Placing her hand on his massive chest the lieutenant leans over and kisses his neck. He keeps his eyes locked on the ceiling, but his cock does quiver at her touch. Nibbling on the outside of his ear as a cover Lt. Nyarai whispers, "Sawubona, ngingumfana umngane." Greeting him as a friend in the rudimentary Zulu she was given for this mission. The warrior looks up at the lieutenant for the first time, shocked to hear his native tongue. Kenya quickly asks him what was his last memory.

He responds in perfect Zulu, with ancient diction, saying "Redcoats with their fire sticks."

"Damn." Kenya whispers, needing that bio sample now more then ever. "I'm sorry." She quietly adds in broken Zulu, "I will get you out of here, but you're going have to trust me." Before the warrior reply he gives out a grunt as the Star Fleet agent takes hold of his cock and begins to stroke it up and down.