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Captain’s Claimed Property

Page 8

by Hollie Hutchins


  “You mean stole,” Sarah corrected.

  Before Grom could argue over the semantics of his story, Wex’s voice came on over the newly repaired intercom.

  “Captain, it’s Wex. The new gravity drive is installed, and it appears we are ready to go.”

  Grom made his way to the small speaker by his door and pressed the button. “Good. Inform the crew of our departure and get us the hell out of here.”

  “Do you want me to do a headcount, sir?” Wex asked.

  “A headcount? What are we running, a smuggling operation or a daycare?” Grom yelled. “I told everyone to be back on the ship before sundown, and if they don’t make it, they don’t make it.”

  “Copy that.”

  Grom turned back to Sarah. “The intercom sounds very good.”

  “Yeah, well, it was nothing really. Just replaced a few wires and tightened a few screws.”

  “The real test will be the gravity drive.” Grom turned back to the door and opened it. “If anything goes wrong with our next jump, I will find you completely at fault.” Apparently the touchy-feely sharing time was over. Grom motioned for her to leave his room. “Now, go back to your chambers and buckle yourself in. We’re jumping soon, and I can’t afford for you to get scratched any more than you already are, especially if I’m going to have to sell you at the next stop.”

  Although Grom’s words were threatening, his tone lacked the fiery passion he possessed when he threatened Sarah her first night on the ship. She stood up out of her seat slowly, feigning caution so as to give Grom the impression that she actually took him seriously and left his room in a hurried scuffle.

  The Slipsteam took off without a hitch, and within seconds they were headed towards their next destination. The trip was scheduled to take less than two days, during which time Sarah spent most of it sulking in her chambers, leaving only to grab a bite from the kitchen. Based on what she gathered from a few overheard conversations, they were headed to the Beffund Space Station to pick up some cargo. Nobody ever said what exactly this “cargo” was, leading Sarah to believe it was likely something very secretive and very illegal. Although Sarah had never been to the Beffund Space Station herself, she had seen plenty of ships come in to Bernie’s shop that had just come from Beffund. Those clunkers always had the same problems: tons of stolen parts, shattered lights, and enough graffiti to cover an entire city block.

  I thought Grendle Port 6 was as scary as death itself, Sarah thought as the pilot’s voice came over the intercom, informing the crew they were about to land, and now it looks like I’m walking straight into hell.

  End of Part One.

  14

  Acceptance

  Sarah tested the blade of her knife along the edge of her thumb. It did nothing. Even a skilled knifeme,or knifewoman, she thought, wouldn’t be able to do much damage with this thing. It was duller than one of her “History of Spacecraft” lectures. The memory of her courses brought with it a wave of sadness. She thought of how Margaret used to pass her notes during that class that always said something like “shoot me” and would include a little drawing of stick figure Sarah holding a gun to stick figure Margaret’s temple. Sure, it was dark, but that was Margaret for you. If only she could talk to her friends, even if it was the last time. She just wanted to say goodbye. To them, to her parents, to Bernie. Her fear of dying had depleted with each near death experience she had encountered since being taken prisoner. She no longer wished for freedom; she just wanted to be able to tell her friends and family what happened. She knew if they weren’t given answers, they would assume she was dead, or worse, they would assume she was alive, and never stop looking for her.

  Whether she died by Grom’s gamma-blaster, his dragon claws, or was sold to be a slave to some other savage, abusive alien, she had given up any hope of going home. So when Nickle came to visit her the morning they landed on Beffund, and told her Wex needed her help getting the transmitter to work, Sarah was less than enthusiastic.

  “What’s the point?” She was sitting cross legged on her bunk, still playing with the knife.

  “Um, to get you off this ship?” Nickle suggested.

  Sarah raised the knife above her head and brought it down with all her strength into the thin pad atop her bunk. It went through the pad, with only a little resistance, and hit the metal stand beneath with a tink. “It will never work.”

  “It might.”

  “Yeah, or we might get caught and Grom might slit our throats.”

  “I don’t understand.” Nickle looked down at his feet. “You were so confident before.”

  “Yeah, and look at where that confidence got me. Look at where it got all the other prisoners.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. You had no way of knowing.”

  “I should have acted faster. Instead, I was too busy wallowing over my own situation, trying to save my own skin.”

  Nickle moved to sit next to her. “Well, of course you did. You’re only human.”

  “That’s exactly it.” She shook her head in frustration. “I’m only human. I’m just a thing to these aliens! Just an object. It doesn’t matter what I do. They own me.”

  “So, you’re not even going to try to get the transmitter working?” Nickle said, sounding almost irritated.

  “I’m not even sure I could get it working, I mean, if Wex is having trouble then—”

  “So you’re not even going to try?” Nickle’s sudden rise in voice gave Sarah pause. She looked up at the doctor and realized he was near tears. “You’re just going to give up on yourself, on all those humans being sold at the markets, on me?”

  “On you?” Sarah felt tears stinging in her eyes, too, but she wasn’t quite sure why. “Nickle, where is all of this coming from?”

  “I guess, I just thought…” Nickle allowed the tears to flow freely, “I guess I thought if you had a chance of escape, then maybe I did too.”

  Sarah could feel Nickle’s desperation like one feels humidity after a summer rainstorm. “Oh, Nickle, I’m so sorry. I hadn’t even thought about—God, I’m so selfish. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own troubles, I totally forgot that you’re here against your will too. I should never have involved you in all my scheming. It’s too dangerous. If I hadn’t lied to Reema that day in the kitchen—”

  “If you hadn’t lied to Reema, she would have killed me.” Nickle laughed a little, his tears slowing. “She’s been looking for an excuse to gut me since I accidently let it slip to Wex that she tested positive for an STI after her last check up.”

  Despite her deep, overwhelming sorrow, the idea of Reema having an STI made Sarah break out into uncontrollable laughter. Nickle couldn’t help but join her and the two let loose until their stomachs hurt and tears were streaming their faces.

  Finally Nickle collected himself and said, “Man, it’s been a long time since I’ve laughed like that. My wife used to make me laugh like that.”

  “You have a wife?”

  “And a daughter. Back home. It’s been about five years since I’ve seen them.”

  His voice nearly broke again as he spoke of his family. Sarah hadn’t realized how much was riding on this. No wonder Nickle was so adamant she didn’t give up.

  “Sarah, I know what happened with the prisoners was a huge setback, but I really think we have a shot at freedom here. If you help Wex, I know you two will get the radio working, and then we’ll call for help. If we can get someone from the Federation on the line, they’ll come busting in, guns a blazing! And we can both return to our families.”

  The doctor’s enthusiasm was infectious, and she wanted to give herself over to it, but she needed to keep a level head. She had been too optimistic last time and it clouded her judgement.

  “Nickle, listen.” The doctor’s smile wilted into a stern line. He sat down again and Sarah continued. “I will help Wex with the radio, and I will try my hardest to get in contact with someone, but I’m telling you right now this plan is far from foolproof. The chance
s of us getting a signal and finding the right channel are slim. And that’s assuming we don’t get caught. Then we have to pray the federal guards are actually able to find the ship, considering we travel well out of the range of the designated safe lanes. The odds are not on our side. I need you to understand that.”

  “I understand, really.” Nickle’s voice quickened with excitement and Sarah had to cut him off.

  “Nickle, I’m serious. I need you to stay focused, and most importantly, to stay realistic. I will be nervous enough as is, but if I have you standing over my shoulder talking about how excited you are to see your wife and daughter again, well…it’s too much pressure. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but it’s the only way.”

  Nickle steadied his voice and breathed in deeply. “Okay. I understand.”

  “Good.”

  “So what now?”

  And as if he was waiting for his cue, Grom entered the room without knocking. He looked at Nickle then at Sarah and narrowed his eyes.

  “What’s going on?” he barked.

  “Oh, I was just checking on Sarah’s tongue,” Nickle answered hurriedly. “I wanted to make sure it was healing properly.” He turned to Sarah who had opened her mouth. He gave it a quick once over. “Looking good. Does it still hurt?”

  “Not really. I burned myself with some boiling caffie-drink yesterday, which hurt like hell, but otherwise it feels fine.”

  “Well let me know if anything changes, and maybe lay off the caffie-drink for a few days?”

  Sarah smiled. “Never.”

  Nickle returned the smile and left the room without another word.

  “You two seem very…chummy,” Grom noted.

  “Well he is the only other human on board.”

  “And you’re both the only slaves,” Grom added rudely.

  “I guess that’s also true.”

  “I’m heading to do negotiations. I want you to come with me.”

  “Why?” Sarah’s heartbeat quickened. “Does this have something to do with the ship?”

  “Not exactly.” Grom’s eye moved to the knife sticking out of the bunk pad.

  Sarah ripped it free. “I took it from the kitchen. Contrary to your orders, the crew sometimes gets too close for comfort.”

  “And you think that will keep them at bay?” Grom smirked.

  “Gotta work with what you got.”

  “Those knives couldn’t cut through butter.”

  “Does that mean you’ll let me keep it?” Sarah asked hopefully. She didn’t really care about the knife, but she was testing the waters of Grom’s trust.

  “I guess that’s fine. As long as we can stop talking about this. We’re going to be late.”

  “I don’t understand why I have to go. If it’s not about the ship—”

  “You have to go because I said so, and I’m the boss. That’s all you need to understand.”

  Since he let her keep the knife, Sarah felt it was her turn to compromise. She stood up without argument and said, with just a tinge of sarcasm, “Alright then. Let’s get a move on, bossman.”

  15

  The Human and the Gearnan

  Beffund was surprisingly less crowded than Grendle Port 6, and there were no security checks, which originally relieved Sarah until she realized that meant none of the other people on the space station had been searched. They could be carrying anything. She no longer felt content with her tiny, blunt piece of metal.

  Sarah tried to keep her distance from Grom. Ever since she had seen him in dragon form, she was feeling extra repulsed by him, and, she had to admit, far more intimidated. His horns, which never used to phase her, now reminded her of those on a bull, and she felt like she was always wearing red. He didn’t make her walk in front this time, and he kept his weapon holstered. Either he was beginning to trust her, or he was daring her to try and make a run for it on a terrifyingly hostile station such as Beffund. Regardless of his reasoning, the two walked side by side which allowed Sarah to sustain a safe foot or two between her and the big blue Kylen. She didn’t stray too far, however. Every alien that passed her and Grom eyed Sarah as if starved. Some made comments, others would whistle at her like a dog. Grom didn’t seem to notice, or if he noticed, he didn’t seem to care.

  Sarah wondered if he would even save her if one of the street rats tried anything. He had helped her on Grendle, but it wasn’t like he put his life on the line. He was clearly stronger than that security guard and had him backing down without even making a threat. But some of the guys walking the streets of Beffund were huge, and the ones that weren’t big were decked out with crazy defensive features from everything like porcupine quills to skin that looked thicker than plate armour. Not to mention everyone was packing serious heat: gamma blasters, laser guns, electrified spears, you name it. She wasn’t sure any of these monstrous creatures could beat Grom the dragon, but they sure as hell could put up a fight, and it was highly possible the captain didn’t think Sarah was worth the trouble.

  Sarah’s anxiety grew with every passing alien, and when she and Grom arrived at the building where he was supposed to meet his “associate,”as he called him, she had built up the courage to ask Grom for a favor.

  The Para woman sitting behind the front desk had told them to take a seat, that Grom’s client would be right with him. As they sat, Sarah stated plainly, “I need a gun.”

  Grom laughed. “Ha! That’s funny.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Why would I give you a gun?”

  “Because I need one. Did you see how I was treated on our walk over here? Every thing we passed looked at me like I was its next meal!”

  “Oh none of them would have tried anything.” Grom folded his arms confidently. “Not with me next to you.”

  “You don’t know that for sure. Plus, how am I supposed to know you’ll protect me?”

  “Are you doubting my fighting skills?”

  “No, I’m doubting your motives. You don’t have any reason to risk your life for me. If something big enough or strong enough grabs me, chances are you’d just let him.”

  Grom had no response.

  “I mean, can you give me a valid reason for why you’d fight for me?”

  Grom’s silence confused Sarah. It was almost as if he was there was something he wasn’t saying. Just as she was beginning to suspect that maybe Grom did have a reason for wanting to protect her, he agreed with her.

  “You’re right. You can’t trust that I’ll keep you safe. I’m strong but not stupid. I’m not going to get myself killed for an unseemly human girl.”

  “So, I can have a gun?”

  Grom thought it over. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because there’s nothing stopping you from putting a bullet through my head the second I turn away!”

  “There’s nothing keeping your crew from doing the same thing, and they all have weapons! I’m way more trustworthy than any of them! Your crew is made up of moronic, bloodthirsty brutes. No offense.”

  Grom laughed. “No offense taken. That’s all a smuggling captain could want for his crew.”

  “Fair enough, but you have to admit, they have way more motive for shooting you than I do. They could overtake your position as captain, rule the entire ship! If I shoot you, I kill the only thing that stands between me and certain death.”

  “Huh.” Grom frowned. “I guess I hadn’t considered that.”

  “If it makes you feel more comfortable, it can be a human gun. Those bullets won’t kill you unless I make a perfect shot, and trust me when I tell you, I won’t. I’ve never shot a gun in my life.”

  “Never?” Grom was shocked. “Not even at an animal?”

  “I’m a vegetarian.”

  “A vege-what?”

  “It means I don’t eat meat.”

  Now that got Grom laughing harder than the comment about his crew. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Normally Sarah would have been upset by this c
omment and would even have launched into a long explanation about why she was vegetarian. She would explain that she did believe humans were supposed to be a part of the natural food chain, but that she took issue with the methods humans used to acquire meat. Animal extinction was running rampant on Earth, and her parents had always raised her with a deep love and appreciation for the natural world. Plus, her father had been a vegetarian his entire life, and she didn’t want to disappoint him. But she said none of this. Instead, she let Grom tease and crack jokes, seeing that he was starting to agree with her assertion that she wasn’t a threat.

  “Yeah, yeah.” She finally interrupted Grom’s stretch of insults, many of which were grossly derogatory towards humans. “I’m sure you find it very shocking that some people don’t find joy in the senseless killing of a helpless being, but that’s exactly the point I’m trying to make. I’m not a threat. I’m just scared, and I want something to give me some piece of mind.”

  Grom noticed something over Sarah’s shoulder and nodded quickly. “Yes, alright. That’s fine. If we see a cheap human gun for sale, we can pick it up. Now drop it. The client is coming down the hall.”

  The client, Sarah discovered through his and Grom’s conversation, was a friend of a friend; specifically, a friend of the friend Grom had met with while Sarah rummaged through the junkyard on Grendle Port 6. Grom had gone to see the guy about setting up this very meeting. He introduced himself simply as Mr. R and had surprisingly addressed both Grom and Sarah while speaking. The alien was only a little bit taller than Sarah and was very slim. He wore a smart, human-made suit and a winning smile. Aside from his sharply pointed nose and oversized eyes, the man looked human. Sitting across from him in his incredibly well-decorated office, Sarah wracked her brain to figure out what species he was. She would have said halfsie, but she had never seen a halfsie that was so close to human. Maybe one of his parents was full human and the other was part human? she thought. She had stopped listening to the negotiations and was only brought back into the conversation when Grom snapped his fingers in front of her face.

 

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