“Is everything alright?” Marcelle asked.
“Yes, sorry. Everything’s fine. Look, we need to report a crime. Is there any way you can patch us through to someone from the Galactic Guard?”
“Well, let’s see here. We do have a direct line to the Guard, but it’s not very reliable, and that’s coming from where we are. Since you aren’t even on the planet yet, I’m not sure your call would even go through. We can wait until your ship lands—”
“No! No, we can’t wait. Just patch us through, if you would.”
“Alright. Just give me one second.”
There was a click on the other end of the line, and then a steady stream of crackling. Nickle’s breathing started to become erratic and Sarah’s palms were sweating so much she was worried the transmitter might slip out of them. Finally, the crackling stopped and was replaced by a voice that sounded dangerously distant.
“Galactic Guard. Officer P129 speaking.”
“Yes, hi. My name is Sarah Dawson. I need to report a crime.”
“Alright, Ms. Dawson, what exactly is the nature of this crime?”
“Uh, well, slavery?” Sarah offered vaguely. “My shuttle was taken over by some space pirates a week or so back. We were headed to Earth, they took everyone on board, brought us to the planet Grendle and sold everyone accept me at some sort of market for human slaves.”
“I’m sorry—I thin—ut out. Can you pl—epeat yourself.” The transmitter went silent.
Tears began to well in Sarah’s eyes, but she squeezed her eyelids shut with frustrated determination and kept herself stable. “Officer can you hear me?”
The crackling returned, then a faint message. One word, almost inaudible. “Barely.”
“Okay. Listen.” Sarah spoke loud, clear, and quick. “There are humans being sold as slaves on the planet Grendle. That’s the PLANET GRENDLE. HUMANS BEING SOLD AS SLAVES. Did you get that?”
There was no response from Officer P129. There wasn’t even the crackling noise anymore. The line went completely dead. After a few seconds of quiet, the three hopeful rebels heard a deafening click.
Try as they may, the transmitter never picked up another signal. Even the connection to Kinichi’s ground control had been lost. That night Sarah tossed and turned in her bunk, wondering if she had done the right thing by calling the Galactic Guard, by wasting her time explaining the markets on Grendle and forgetting to mention her own imprisonment. She kept replaying the conversation over in her head, remembering the look on Nickle’s face after the line went dead.
“There will be other chances, Nickle.” Sarah had tried to reassure him. “Other signals.”
He only nodded, weakly, and told her she did the right thing by telling them about the markets. “More people might be saved than if you had just told them about us.” He put his hand on her shoulder as a friendly gesture, and left Wex’s room without another word.
Now, as she lay awake in her pitch black chambers, the guilt was overwhelming her. She chastised herself for not working harder on the transmitter, for not trying to get a signal with every free second she had on the ship. She agonized over the fact that she might have thrown away Nickle’s only shot at seeing his wife and daughter again. But mainly, the guilt was stemming from somewhere much more personal. I could have used the signal to try to get a message back to my parents. And the second she thought it, she immediately berated herself over it. How could she be so selfish? How could she be concerned with contacting her parents when she had the chance to save hundreds, thousands of people from being sold into slavery? And yet the thought would not evade her.
She finally fell asleep nearly four hours after she had gone to bed. She had normal dreams, ones where she was back home, or at school, except in the background of all of them, Sarah could hear a constant, faint crackling noise. And each dream ended abruptly, with Sarah no longer able to hear the voices of her friends, or family members, and the whole scene going dark with one concluding click.
21
Rumours, Raids, and Revenge
Grom noticed, with disappointment, that Sarah did not emerge from her chambers after they landed on Kinichi. He thought for sure she would appreciate the chance to get off the ship, stretch her legs a bit, and that maybe the two of them would have a moment or two to chat. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would say to her, even though he had rehearsed the moment in his head countless times over the last few days, but he was fine to just fire off small talk as long as it meant he got to hear her voice again.
He grabbed Wex by the arm, gently, as the maintenance man walked past him on the Kinichi docks. “Hey, have you seen Sarah this morning?”
“Nope, sorry, Captain.”
“She didn’t come into the kitchen at all? Not even to get some caffie-drink?”
“Not that I witnessed.”
“Hmm.” Wex pointed ahead, as if to ask if he could be excused. Grom nodded and, after looking around the docks one last time, headed over to a café to wait while the ship was being refueled.
He sat at the counter and ordered a cup of juice the café had been advertising on the sign outside. He wasn’t sure what fruit it came from as he couldn’t read the name on the sign, let alone pronounce it, but it tasted sweet, and he sipped contentedly and watched the galactic cup game that was playing on the screen behind the counter.
“Did you hear?” Two aliens were sitting only one seat down from him, and the one speaking had apparently never heard of the concept of inside voices. “Grendle got raided.”
Grom’s attention was sparked at the mention of Grendle.
“What?” His friend spoke at a much more reasonable decibel. “No way.”
“It’s true. A buddy of mine was there when it happened. Apparently they got some tip about the markets last night and they raided the whole joint this morning.”
“Oh man. I know a few people that sell over there.”
“Well, my guess is you won’t being seeing them again anytime soon. If ever.”
Grom cleared his throat and leaned over the stool separating him and the other two patrons. “Excuse me, did you say it was the planet Grendle that was raided?”
“That’s the one. Why? You know someone over there, too?”
Grom ignored his question. “Do you know how the Galactic Guard is going to prosecute? Are they trying to get information or just shut down the markets?”
“Ah, I see.” The alien smiled knowingly. “You’re a supplier.”
Grom didn’t answer.
“It’s cool, I get it. I get it. You don’t have to confirm or deny anything.” The alien leaned in and finally lowered his voice. “Look, alls I heard is that they rounded up every seller they could get their hands on. The ones who tried to run got shot. The ones who went freely, well, I don’t know, they may offer some sort of plea deal for anyone who has information, or they may just lock 'em up. You didn’t use your real names during these dealings did you?”
“Of course not.” Grom was insulted by the insinuation.
“Good. Then I wouldn’t worry about it. But, uh, between you and me, maybe you should stay away from the safe lanes for a bit.”
Grom nodded in agreement, then went back to drinking his juice as if the conversation had never taken place.
By the time the story made it through the grapevine and to Sarah’s own ears, it was much more grandiose and hyperbolized. She had heard from a crewmember that night in the kitchen, who had heard from a guy at a Kinichi bar, who had heard from his Grendle-native sister that the planet had been raided and that everyone who had been at the markets that morning was shot dead. Later, as she compared her story with the ones Nickle and Wex had heard, they realized that most likely was not what happened.
Although the details were muddy and none of their respective stories made perfect sense, the group understood the gist; they had gotten the Grendle markets shut down. Wex broke out his not-so-expensive bottle of Hexa-Juice to celebrate and the three of them took a shot for eve
ry ridiculous detail they had heard regarding the event.
“This one is for whoever told Reema that the raid was actually faked,” Wex held up the bottle, “and that the galactic government just wants us to believe the markets are gone so that no one discovers they actually use the markets to buy humans that they do all kinds of crazy experiments on!” He threw back a swig.
“This one's for the pilot,” Nickle took the bottle from Wex, “who told me that he heard the Galactic Guard is going to punish the sellers by making them work as slaves for the humans for the rest of their lives.” He took a sip that was much smaller than Wex’s.
“And this one is for,” Sarah, who was already feeling quite tipsy, sloppily reached for the bottle, “is for…it’s for…well, it’s just for me because I want it.” Nickle and Wex burst out laughing as Sarah put the bottle to her mouth, but their laughter was infectious and before she could take another drink, she found herself laughing as well. It was the first time she had laughed this much since her last night on Reeveral with Margaret and Braya.
It was late by the time Sarah pulled herself together enough to leave Wex’s chambers. Nickle had fallen asleep on the floor almost an hour before. She and Wex stayed up and played cards for a bit, but she could tell he was getting sleepy, and knowing he would never quit in the middle of a hand, she excused herself.
Ever since hearing the news about the raid, Sarah felt lighter. She finally felt some of her agency returning to her, which was ironic, considering she had subconsciously took a left turn where she should have taken a right, and before she knew it, Sarah was standing directly outside of Grom’s door.
Without even really registering what she was doing, and definitely not registering how late it was, Sarah knocked. She could hear some shuffling from the other side of the door, then the groggy-looking captain’s face appeared.
“Oh, Sarah.” He was wearing only a sheet, which he had wrapped loosely around his waist. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
Sarah didn’t immediately hear the question. She was too distracted by seeing Grom’s near naked form. The way his lamp illuminated him through the doorway really emphasized the lines of his muscles, and her eyes followed those lines from his neck all the way down to where they disappeared beneath the sheet.
“Sarah?” Grom repeated.
“Right, sorry.” Sarah smiled. “Hi.”
“I asked if something was wrong.”
“Wrong? No, everything’s fine. I just wanted to drop by. Say hello.”
“It’s the middle of the night.”
Sarah brought a hand to her forehead. “Shoot! I totally forgot how late it is. I’ll just leave and you go back to sleep.”
“No, no, it’s fine. Since I’m already up. C’mon in.”
Grom opened the door a bit wider, then went to collect his pants from the floor next to his bed. Sarah watched as he skillfully pulled his pants on underneath the sheet without revealing anything, which, to her surprise, she found disappointing. His gamma-pistol sat on the table at the other side of the bed, and even though he looked at it for a moment, he didn’t retrieve it. Sarah took that as a sign of trust, and she appreciated it.
Now that Grom was fully dressed he sat down on his bed and waited for Sarah to take a seat before asking the question clearly on his mind. “I take it you heard the news?”
“About Grendle?”
Grom nodded.
“I heard.”
“Well, you must be pretty happy about it.”
Sarah wasn’t sure how to answer that, so she just stayed quiet.
“That’s okay,” Grom continued, “you can be happy.”
“Well, good. Because I am.” Sarah pulled her legs into a crossed position on the chair. “But I’m guessing you’re not happy about it.”
“Contrary to what you may believe, I don’t take pleasure in selling people as slaves. But it’s a lucrative business, and in my line of work, you have to take income wherever you can get it.”
“I should tell you right now, there’s nothing you can say that will make me think what you did to those people was justified.”
“I know, I know. I’m a horrible monster, you could never forgive me, I might as well just crawl into a hole and die for all you care.”
“I mean…I didn’t say that.”
They both laughed.
“To tell you the truth, I don’t care about the markets. I’m glad those people got saved.” Grom sighed. “But I am worried about the Galactic Guard. I’m worried someone might talk and that talk might lead someone to me.”
“Ah.” Sarah hadn’t considered all the trouble the raids could rain down on Grom. “Well, I’m sorry you’re feeling scared.”
“I’m not feeling scared.” Grom’s voice took on the defensive tone of a schoolboy and Sarah couldn’t help but laugh again.
“Right. Okay.”
“I’m not!” But now Grom was laughing too, and his argument subsequently fell apart.
The captain’s eyes found Sarah’s and they held each other’s soft gaze. Sarah could feel desire brewing in her belly, like slow roasted caffie-drink dripping into a pot. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could stand being so far from him, not touching him. Just as she was about to lose control of herself, there came a knock at the door.
“Now who the hell could that be?” Grom strode angrily towards the door and yelled, “who is it?”
“It’s Jent.”
Grom frowned at Sarah. “What do you want, Jent? It’s the middle of the night?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“We can talk tomorrow.”
“No. I need to talk to you now.”
Grom let out a deep sigh. He looked at Sarah who returned his gaze with one of irritation and anxiety. She mouthed, “don’t let him in.”
“Jent, go away. I’m trying to sleep.”
The Selachi said nothing. They heard the beeping of numbers being punched into the keypad, and then the sound of the door unlocking.
“How did you—”
Jent shoved the door open, causing Grom to take a few steps back. All Sarah could see of the dark hallway over Grom’s shoulder was the barrel of a gamma-blaster aimed right at the captain’s head. Grom threw his hands up and kept backing up.
“Take it easy there, Jent.” The Selachi emerged from the hallway, matching Grom’s pace and keeping his weapon locked in place. “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret.”
“Oh, I won’t regret this. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time now.”
Sarah slowly stood up from the chair. Jent’s stare fell on her, but his weapon remained trained on Grom. “There she is! The woman of the hour. You know, if you hadn’t come on the ship, I might not have ever gotten the gall to put my little plan into action. You were just the ugly little catalyst I needed. Not to mention you’re a terrible secret keeper.” He looked back at Grom, “Did you know that the keypads are broken?”
Grom looked at Sarah, but she kept her eyes locked on Jent’s gun.
“That’s right,” Jent continued. “The keypads are broken and have been for some time.”
“I don’t understand,” Grom said.
“Neither do I, really,” Jent admitted. “But I’ve been watching the girl the past few days, and I’ve noticed something funny. She never pays attention when she enters a number into the pad. Hell, sometimes she’s not even looking at the screen. So that got me to thinking, did she actually memorize the shape and organization of all the keypads, or do the codes not matter? Turns out,” he smiled at Sarah, “you’ve got yourself quite the devastating security breach on your hands, Captain.”
Grom went to grab for the blaster, but Jent was quicker. He moved the gun out of the captain’s reach and stepped back before Grom could refocus his efforts and tackle him. Now Grom’s back was against the door, and he couldn’t move away any further. “Ah, ah, ah. No funny business, Captain. We wouldn’t want there to be an accident and have one of these bla
sts hit your favorite pet over there now would we?”
Grom’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t threaten her.” A growl escaped his mouth.
“Oh no you don’t!” Jent took a step closer to Grom. “Don’t go all fire-breathing dragon. This is between you and me, not the dragon.”
Sarah took a tentative step away from the chair, moving as slowly and quietly as possible. Jent didn’t notice; his focus was held entirely by the threat of Grom’s transformation.
“Jent, why don’t you put the gun down and we can talk about this,” Grom tried to reason.
“Fuck talking. I’m done listening to the sound of your voice.” Sarah was halfway to the table now. “All you do is talk. There’s never any action with you. When are we going to start taking on some real missions, huh? When are we going to start seeing the real money? The type of money you promised!” Sarah was just a few feet from the bedside table. She reached her arm out as far as it could stretch and was just able to wrap her fingers around the handle of the pistol. She drew the weapon quick, but Jent had caught the slightest bit of movement in the mirror right next to Grom’s shoulder. The Selachi whipped around, weapon in tow. Sarah wasn’t sure how exactly to work the gamma pistol, but she knew there was no time for her to figure it out. She aimed while Jent was still turning, her finger found the trigger, and she pulled.
The blast put a pinch sized hole right through Jent’s stomach. His arms immediately went slack, he dropped the blaster, and fell limply to the ground. A dribble of blood spilled from his mouth as he turned his head to give her one final glare. “You bitch.” He spat, his blood splattering the carpet like a deadly constellation.
22
New Beginnings
Grom let her keep the pistol, not that he could really deny her it after she had saved his life. After taking a few moments to collect his wits and analyze the situation, the captain called a ship wide meeting, inviting everyone into his chambers right then, in the middle of the night. He didn’t move Jent’s body. Instead, he forced each of the crewmembers to step over the bloody mess as they entered his room. Once all were accounted for, Grom told everyone to quiet down, that their questions would be answered in due time. In his methodical, authoritative manner Grom described what had taken place between him, Jent, and the human girl, point by point. When he got to the part about how Sarah had acted with cunning bravery to save his life, he couldn’t help but beam a little.
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