Captain’s Claimed Property

Home > Other > Captain’s Claimed Property > Page 7
Captain’s Claimed Property Page 7

by Hollie Hutchins


  “The thing was rusty!” Leon continued to defend. “I had to get aggressive. Anyway, we’ve got a new drive for you right here.” One of Leon’s workers wheeled a cart over and pulled the covering tarp off the shiny new gravity drive. It was an older model, Sarah could tell, but it looked like it hadn’t been used. “Well?” Leon looked to Grom for validation. “Isn’t she a beaut?”

  “It looks fine to me,” Grom replied, then asked Sarah what she thought.

  The human moved closer to the drive and inspected the main screen. It wouldn’t turn on, seeing as it wasn’t hooked up to a power source, but there were still ways to tell if the thing had life. Putting her fingernail in between the bottom of the screen and the rest of the drive, Sarah popped the screen out of its hold and went to look underneath it.

  “Hey, hey! What are you doing? What is she doing?” Leon moved to grab Sarah, but Grom stopped him.

  “Calm down, I’m just checking something,” Sarah reassured.

  She got on her knees so she could get a better view of the back of the screen. Tilting it up even further, she was able to see the flashing green light on the underside. This light, along with the emergency lights, were powered by the skinny solar panel strip that ran down the side of the drive. It was another one of the stupid “for-show” safety additions the company put into Slipsteam gravity drives. They wanted to ensure that certain features of the gravity drive would work even during a power outage, so they hooked them up to solar power. Which, in hindsight, made very little sense seeing as these drives were made to go inside spaceships and would therefore never be exposed to direct sunlight. Upon realizing this, the company backtracked one last time and decided to include an artificial-sunray flashlight with every drive purchased. The entire solar-powered shift was a ridiculous rouse, but in this case it allowed for Sarah to determine whether or not the drive would even work, so she was grateful for this one instance of bureaucratic incompetence.

  “Yeah, it’s in working order,” Sarah said, popping the screen back in place.

  “Great.” Grom clasped his hands together. “So how much do I owe you?”

  “Well, it’s going to be fifty pinches for the time I spent working on the old drive, and seven hundred for the new one.”

  Sarah was so shocked by the estimate that she accidently bit her tongue, reopening the small wound. “Ah!” she yelled, grabbing at the side of her mouth. Grom moved to check on her but Sarah waved him off. “Are you kidding me?” She spoke through the pain. “Seven hundred pinches is a total rip off!”

  “It is not!” Leon argued, then spoke directly to Grom. “I don’t know who that slave of yours thinks she is, or what she is talking about, but my prices are fair.”

  “Oh bull!” Sarah moved closer to the two aliens, forcing Leon to acknowledge her. “We sell these drives, and newer models, in my shop back home and they go for four hundred fifty pinches max. Plus, we shouldn’t have to pay you for the work you did on the old one considering you completely ruined it!” And, just to underline her point and to make it easier for her to talk, Sarah turned her head and spat a mouthful of blood right on the cement.

  Having a hard time ignoring the blood, as well as coming up with a counter argument, Leon fumbled to find his words. “Now, hang on, you’re not accounting for the, uh, import fees, and the, uh, the Grendle planet taxes—”

  “Even so,” Sarah doubled down, “those things wouldn’t add up to over 50 pinches. I’ll tell you what, we’ll give you an even 500, and you can keep the old Gravity drive to sell for parts.”

  “That’s crazy! No deal.” Leon folded his arms. “I won’t go a pinch below 675.”

  Grom pulled Sarah aside and whispered angrily, “Are you sure about this? We can’t afford to have him refuse to sell us the new one. His is the only repair shop on this port.”

  “Look, pay what you want, but he’s ripping you off.”

  “I don’t see any other option, unless I were to kill him,” Grom suggested as if it were the most natural back up plan.

  “You can’t kill him!” Sarah said, just loud enough for Leon to overhear. The halfsie man started to panic, and Sarah realized he was reaching behind his back, most likely for a stashed weapon. “Woah, woah, hang on a second.” Sarah tried to deescalate the situation by putting her hands out in front of her and walking slowly towards Leon. “Let’s not do anything hasty. Now, I know the last thing you want is a situation on your hands. You’ve got about half a dozen code violations in this part of the garage alone, not to mention all the contraband. If you shoot us, and the Galactic Guards show up, what then?” Satisfied with her ability to intimidate, Sarah looked back at Grom with a smirk, failing to notice that the halfsie had drawn his weapon.

  “Did you just threaten me, bitch?” the halfsie yelled as the rest of his workers cleared out of the garage.

  Sarah turned back to Leon and froze. Her mind raced with possible ways she could talk her way out of the situation. She even considered trying to draw her secret knife and then immediately abandoned that idea given the sheer stupidity of it.

  Leon broke his gaze with Sarah and stared directly at Grom, “Now, if you want your ugly little mongrel to get out of here in one piece, I suggest you two get the hell out of my shop now!”

  “You’re making a big mistake,” Grom tried to warn the shop owner. The Kylen took a step closer to the weapon wielding moron, and Leon turned the gun on him. Before the halfsie could even form the words of his next demand, Grom’s humanoid form began to twist and elongate in a disturbing, monstrous display. Both Sarah and Leon watched with transfixed horror as Grom’s arms and legs grew twice their size, and from his fingers and toes sprouted long, curled claws the size of steak knives. His mouth protruded forward as his entire head swelled. The transformation took only a second or two, but Sarah seemed to be seeing it all in slow motion.

  Once the man was gone and the dragon fully awake, Grom flew through the air with the grace of an alligator in the swamp. Using his arms to grab Leon, and one of his legs to kick the gun from his hand, Grom brought the now defenseless halfsie up into the air and, without hesitation, plunged his massive teeth into Leon’s neck. Once the halfsie was good and dead, Grom dropped his lifeless body onto the garage floor. The dragon landed delicately on his back legs and slowly began shrinking back to his regular size. At that point, a crowd had formed around the open doors of the garage, though they kept a safe distance. Sarah’s eyes darted back and forth between Leon’s body slumped against the side wall like a rag-doll, and Grom’s regained human form.

  Licking the remaining blood off his fingers, Grom addressed the crowd with a hungry look in his eyes. “Now, is there anyone else who’d like to try overcharging me?”

  12

  One Man’s Trash

  Not wanting to add insult to injury, Grom left an even five hundred pinches with, the only worker who actually stayed behind during all the chaos. He tipped the guy an extra forty to take the new drive to the ship, confident the guy wouldn’t try anything funny after witnessing the dragon.

  Whether it was her still sore tongue, or her newfound fear for the Kylen captain, Sarah remained virtually silent for the rest of the afternoon. Grom informed her they were headed next to the junkyard to scavenge for any other useful spare parts, to which she simply nodded and followed his lead.

  “The Galactic Guards don’t do anything you know,” Grom said as the two walked to the junkyard. “Not in places like this. The Grendle guards are notorious for being corrupt. Stuff like contraband and code violations never pose an issue. If the galactic federation found out, well, actually, they probably wouldn’t concern themselves much with his code violations either. They’d be far more concerned with the slave markets. Anyway, this is it.”

  They had arrived at what looked like a mile high mountain of space garbage. Grom told Sarah she was free to roam, to grab anything she thought might be helpful, and to call him if she needed help carrying anything. In the meantime, Grom was going to go
find the owner of the junkyard, an old friend of his, and maybe have a drink or two.

  Sarah watched as Grom climbed over the side of the junk heap and waited until he was almost completely out of sight. Then she immediately went to work, putting into action the second part of her grand plan. She may have failed in getting the rest of the humans off the ship, but there was still a chance she could save herself. And, if she was lucky, do her part to save future humans from being sold on this god-forsaken planet. Wex had agreed to help her make a transmitter, but said she had to find the parts herself, stating he was done snooping around the ship. Up until ten minutes ago, Sarah was planning on stripping parts off the Slipsteam to make the radio, but now that Grom had brought her to the holy grail of nuts and bolts, she didn’t have to.

  There wasn’t much time, so Sarah, against her better judgement, could not inspect the parts as she went. She had to just stuff the pockets of Nickle’s lab coat with any radio parts she could find. Nearly twenty minutes went by before Sarah realized she had forgotten to look for spare Slipsteam parts. She was weary about giving up her search for pieces of old transmitters but knew that Grom would be upset, and likely suspicious, if she claimed to have found nothing for the ship. Hoping she had collected everything needed for the radio, Sarah scanned the trash heap, and spying what looked like a lightly used door scanner off in the distance, she hurried towards it.

  13

  Keep Your Enemies Closer

  Her total haul consisted of the new scanner, which looked like it would fit the Slipsteam’s main entrance, and a few rare Slipsteam shield parts that would be more than beneficial to have on hand, especially considering the line of work this ship was most often used in. Sarah tried to explain what each of the parts was good for as she and Grom made their way back to the ship, but the city streets were too loud, and Grom told her to wait until they were someplace quiet. There were two different security guards manning the checkpoint, and thankfully, their return search went quickly and without issue. Once inside the Slipsteam, Grom brought Sarah directly to his chambers, passing Wex, who was installing the new gravity drive, on the way..

  Sarah couldn’t help smiling to herself as Grom punched his secret code into the keypad next to his door. As Wex had explained, after the secret was out, it didn’t matter what number you typed in. The screen would always say “access granted” and the door would always unlock. Sarah would have been shocked by the fact that nobody aboard had discovered the broken keypads; however, based on the time she’d spent with this brutish crew, the general lack of awareness did not surprise her. That being said, she couldn’t help but expect more from the captain. He was a lot of things—cruel, violent, arrogant, to name a few—but he didn’t strike Sarah as stupid.

  As she followed the Kylen through the door of his chamber, Sarah was immediately taken aback by the giant window that made up the better part of this chamber’s walls. Seeing as the ship was still sitting in dock 32, the current view was nothing to look at, but Sarah could only image what sights this window would provide while in space.

  “Wow,” she said. “Talk about a room with a view.”

  “Yeah,” Grom answered appreciatively. He walked over to the far right side of the window and pressed a button on the wall. Black fabric curtains started descending from the ceiling, blocking the windows. “But there’s nothing to see right now. Plus, I don’t like prying eyes.”

  With the curtains drawn, and just the dim, yellow light of his desk lamp illuminating the room, Grom’s chambers took on a sort of romantic air. Sarah noticed how nice his furniture was, especially the four poster bed which was draped in silky, inviting sheets. Grom sat down at his desk chair and Sarah sat in the chair across from him.

  “So, what did you find?” Grom asked eagerly.

  “Right, well, not much.” Sarah reached carefully into her pockets, fishing out only the parts that she collected for the Slipsteam. She explained the function of each part as she removed it from her pocket and put it on Grom’s desk, though it appeared he understood little-to-none of what she said. Once all the parts were out and accounted for, Sarah leaned back into the cozy leather chair and waited for Grom to give her another order.

  “That all seems fine.” Grom sat back in his seat as well, and the two remained silent for what felt like an eternity.

  “I guess I should go help Wex then?” Sarah suggested, itching to get out of these chambers which, during the deeply uncomfortable silence, had suddenly become very cramped and uncomfortable.

  “How’s your tongue?” Grom asked, ignoring her request to leave.

  “It’s fine. He barely nicked it.”

  “That’s good. You should still probably pay Nickle a visit, just in case.”

  “I will.”

  Grom nodded and then became quiet again. Sarah only waited a few seconds this time before breaking the silence.

  “Why don’t you speak in the Kylen languages?”

  Grom’s eyes flickered with fury as she said the name of his people. Sarah realized she had struck a nerve but carried on with her questioning regardless. “I know there aren’t any other Kylens on the ship, but I’m sure all of your crew members speak at least one of the dialects.”

  “Why are you asking about this?” Grom’s voice had deepened into a severe, slightly threatening tone.

  “Curiosity mainly.” Sarah straightened up and leaned her elbows on her knees. “From what I know about Kylens, which admittedly is not a lot, language is very important. It’s a status symbol. I guess I’m just surprised that you choose to speak in the common tongue, given you are the captain.”

  “It’s more than just a status symbol,” Grom corrected, “Language is law in Kylen society. Our dialects dictate everything.”

  “I understand—”

  “You cannot!” Grom stood up, throwing his chair down on its side in the process. “You cannot possibly understand what it is like.”

  “I’m trying to.” The honesty of Sarah’s voice must have struck something beneath Grom’s tough exterior.

  The words he spoke next seemed almost rehearsed to Sarah, as if he had been thinking these thoughts for years but never found the gall to actually verbalize them. Or, perhaps, it was that he never found the right audience. “I know the Kylen race has this reputation of being brutal colonizers, that all other species fear our wrath, but true Kylen evil lies in what we do to each other.”

  “Is that why you’re out here, working for next to nothing, instead of rising up the ranks on your home planet? Big guy like you, I assume you could be of use somehow to the Kylen army.”

  “My people have nothing to offer me. They took away everything I had, and I will never again count myself amongst their ranks.”

  Grom’s breathing relaxed as he made his way over to his bed. He sighed heavily, rubbed his hand across his mouth and down his neck, deep in thought. Sarah allowed him a few more quiet seconds.

  “What…what do you mean, they took everything away from you?” she asked hesitantly. She was unsure she actually wanted to hear the undoubtedly violent details of how the Kylen ruined Grom’s life. The frightening image of Grom’s dragon form flashed through her mind as she awaited his answer.

  “They killed my wife,” Grom said, unable to look Sarah in the eye.

  “Oh.”

  “She used the wrong dialect when addressing a nobleman. I believe she used the spacer dialect instead of the civilian. Either way, the nobleman took offense and demanded one of his attendees put his spear through her neck. As was his right.”

  “You mean, he didn’t even get in trouble?”

  “Like I said, language is law. She broke the law by using the wrong dialect, and he was allowed to punish her however he saw fit.”

  Sarah had no response. Hearing the rumors about the Kylen’s violent practices is one thing, but actually hearing the repercussions of those practices was too much for her to handle.

  “They waited until I got home to tell me,” Grom continued.
“I was on a mission when it happened—which is actually the only reason it did happen. If I had been in the city, no one would have dared lay a finger on her, regardless of improper dialect use.”

  “You were on a mission?”

  “For some top ranked Kylen officials. I used to deliver packages and make trades for the higher ups. I was no more than a glorified errand boy, but they hired me right out of army training because I was the strongest in my class. The needed someone with muscle to ensure the job got done.” Grom finally looked up and locked eyes with Sarah. “The death report they handed me when I got back didn’t even have the guy’s name. They were protecting him. All the notice said was that he was a ‘nobleman.’ We lived in a small city, and I knew all the noblemen, I worked for all the noblemen. Chances are, I was doing the guy’s bidding while he was murdering my wife.”

  Sarah contemplated getting out of her chair. If this were anyone else besides Grom, she would feel inclined to go to the poor soul, wrap her arms around him, and whisper stupid yet heartfelt sentiments. But this was Grom, this was the man who took her captive, threatened to rape her, and sold her fellow humans as slaves. So what if his troubled past explains his present atrocities? Sarah thought as she sat further back into her chair. It still doesn’t justify them.

  “So, then what?” Sarah asked, hoping her tonal shift would demonstrate her newfound indifference to Grom’s sob story. “You quit?”

  “It’s not that simple.” Sarah noticed a slight twinge of annoyance in Grom’s voice. He must have detected her sudden lack of sympathy. “Quitting would just result in my being executed. I knew too much about the Kylen officials’ various dealings. Instead, I waited until they sent me on my next extended mission. It was a solo mission, just a small delivery. Instead of making that delivery, I hopped out of the safe lanes, and therefore out of radar and radio range of any planets or stations. I waited until I picked up a signal from another rogue ship. The only ships that dare venture out of the safe lanes are either smugglers or pirates. Within a few hours, there was a big, ugly, slow-moving ship coming directly at me. I was able to maneuver my little one-man vessel underneath them, sneak up into the main cabins, and take out the captain without anyone being the wiser. And that’s how I inherited this baby.” Grom motioned to everything around him.

 

‹ Prev