Captain’s Claimed Property

by Hollie Hutchins

  The sound continued as the ship was thrown into reverse, then quickly back into drive, and with one final, knee-buckling crash, everything went still. Sarah, Wex, and Grom had all fallen to the ground. Nickle, who had wrapped an arm around both Slick and the bunk, was able to keep himself somewhat steady. Everyone was quiet for a moment, then Reema’s voice came in over the intercom.

  “Sorry about that. We blew another stabilizer while we were coming in to the docks. We were crashing no matter what I did, so I just tried my best to aim. I didn’t do such a bad job, either, if I do say so myself—”

  “Reema!” Grom was at the intercom. “Is the dock okay?”

  A pause. “Define okay.”

  Grom grunted and then turned and asked if everyone was alright, then left in an angry huff.

  Sarah ran after him, catching up just as he punched a useless code into the ship’s main door. “Hey, where are you going?”

  “I’m going to go talk to the dock workers and figure out what this little crash landing is going to cost me.”

  “And you were going to leave your best negotiator behind?”

  Grom looked at Sarah first with confusion, then with deep appreciation. He smiled. “You’re right, I’m such a fool.”

  “I’ll say.” Sarah winked and stepped out of the Slipsteam.

  Chapter Twenty-Four: It’s What’s Underneath the Hood that Counts

  At first the dock workers were trying to squeeze eight hundred pinches from the ignorant Kylen captain, but Sarah was able to bring the price down to six fifty. Unfortunately, it wasn’t her quick wit or her impressively vast knowledge that convinced the dock workers to lower their price. She tried that route, but it was getting them nowhere. In a last ditch effort, Sarah did something she wasn’t proud of. Opening the collar of Nickle’s lab coat a bit, letting her hair down, and making her eyes as wide and as doe-like as possible, Sarah begged the “nice, handsome” aliens to help her and Grom out.

  “If there was anything you guys could do,” she made her voice a bit deeper and just slightly breathy, “I sure would appreciate it. We’ve been stuck on this ship for weeks, and we just came here to trade it in. Everything is broken on it, including the wash rooms. I haven’t showered in weeks, and you wouldn’t believe how dirty I am.”

  Sarah felt dirty just saying that. She had never been the type of girl who used her body to get what she wanted, but it had been an incredibly long day and she was sick of things going wrong.

  She couldn’t look Grom in the eye as they walked from the docks in the direction of the used ship shop. She knew he was getting angry, watching her flaunt shamelessly and seeing the reactions of the slimy dock workers, and he didn’t say anything to her as they walked. Just as they were approaching the shop, Sarah turned on her heel so she was directly in front of Grom, stopping him in his tracks.

  “Look, I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Grom wouldn’t look at her.

  “You know for what.”

  “It’s fine. Why would I care? It’s your body, and you can use it how you want.”

  “It really seems like you care,” said Sarah.

  “Do you want me to care?” Grom’s eyes met hers.

  She wasn’t sure what to say. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Grom’s mouth broke into a teasing grin. “So, tell me, how dirty are you?”

  “Oh shut up!” Sarah hit his arm lightly. “I got them to lower the cost, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, for the price of your dignity.” Grom returned her light hit, though to Sarah it felt more like a caress.

  “Whatever.” Sarah stalked off towards the ship shop, remembering to readjust the opening in her lab coat just in time.

  The shop owner went on and on about the Nebula Nimble he had displayed at the front of his store, but Sarah was not listening. Not only was the Nimble much too small for their operation, but the guy was trying to sell it for near three times what it was worth. Grom was transfixed by the shiny, sleek look of the ship, and he listened eagerly as the owner listed all of its features.

  Meanwhile, Sarah made her way to the back of the shop where she had spotted what she thought looked like the hull of a Gray Arrow. Her suspicions were confirmed as she approached the large, ashy coloured vessel. It was in great shape and looked as if the thing hadn’t even been flown. It was possible the shop owner had given the ship a nice buff and maybe even a new paint job, but Sarah thought that was unlikely. Gray Arrows were cheaply made and incredibly unpopular so there wasn’t much point in the shop owner shelling out to make the thing look factory fresh as nobody was buying them new, either.

  After checking the outside, Sarah took it upon herself to crawl underneath and see what could be learned about the ship’s bones. The thrusters looked to be in fine condition and it had all its stabilizers. Really the only thing Sarah noticed that was wrong with the ship was how dusty it was.

  “Hey, come look at this one!” she called across the shop.

  “Oh, you don’t want that one,” the shop owner told Grom as they made their way over to Sarah. “That’s an old Gray Arrow. Between you and me,” he lowered his voice even though it was just the three of them in the store, “these things are some of the worst of the worst.” The alien was tall and skinny, his overalls were stained with grease, and he had hair that reached all the way down to his waist which he wore in a loose braid.

  “That’s just ridiculous!” Sarah looked to Grom. “People like to shit all over the Gray Arrows, but they actually aren’t bad ships at all.”

  “They don’t have any weapons mounted, and I assume you’ve heard about the major flaw in its shield?” The ship owner looked at Sarah with an arrogant gleam in his eye.

  “Sarah,” Grom said, “it doesn’t have any weapons and there’s an issue with the shield. I can’t think of a worse combination for our line of work. Cyril here thinks we should be looking at models like the Nebula Nimble up near the front.”

  “Of course Cyril thinks we should get the Nebula Nimble because it’s the most expensive ship in here!”

  “Hey, hey, no need to get upset.” Cyril pulled a pen and pad of paper from his pocket. “Let’s just crunch the numbers shall we? Now, I’m willing to sell you the Nimble, which comes with four major blasters and a wonderful shield for eleven thousand pinches.” He wrote that down. “But for this flying dumpster,” He pointed to the Gray Arrow, “well, the ship itself will cost you eight thousand pinches and then you’d spend at least another six trying to get equipment to mount any weapons. Then you have the costs of the weapons themselves, which as I’m sure you know,” he looked to Grom and winked, “can escalate quite quickly. Then you’re looking at another three thousand to upgrade the shield and bam,” he underlined something on the page, “you’re out seventeen thousand pinches.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Grom, those numbers are insane.” Sarah grabbed the pad and pen from Cyril. “First of all, that Nimble isn’t worth a pinch over seven thousand, so don’t even give me that eleven crap.” Sarah crossed the first number out. “Secondly, you’re going to sell the Gray Arrow to us for fifty-five because you and I both know it’s really only worth five, and you’re never going to get a better deal for it than what I’m offering.” She adjusted the Gray Arrow price. “We can use the equipment from our old ship to get this baby mounted, plus salvage our old weapons, which means all that will cost us is a bit of Wex’s time.” She crossed some more numbers out. “And, well, you’re actually right about the shield, that will cost about three to upgrade.” She left that number alone, made a point to add it all up and put the grand total at the bottom of the page.

  “Eighty-five,” Grom said. “That sounds a lot better than seventeen. Or eleven thousand for that matter.”

  “Look, even if I did agree to your insane haggling terms,” Cyril took his pad and pen back angrily, “which I’m not saying I will, but if I did, I still don’t understand why you would want a Gray Arrow.”

  Grom looked at Sara
h and she suddenly felt like a spotlight had been turned on her. “Okay, I know they have bad reputations, but I’ve seen dozens come through my shop back home, and everyone who flies one says they are great. They always say that they were shocked because it was so cheap and they had heard the rumors, but the damn things fly like a dream. It has great precision turning and you never hear about technical or mechanical problems. I realize it’s not the flashiest or most intimidating ship in the galaxy, but it will get the job done.”

  The captain’s eyes showed he was still slightly dubious. He walked along the side of the ship, conducting his own inspection. “Okay,” he finally said. “If you’re confident, then I trust you. We’ll have Wex come down here and give her a once over, make sure everything looks good. In the meantime, Cyril do you have the facilities here to upgrade the shield or will we have to find a repair shop?”

  “I can do it,” Cyril said. “If you’re sure this is the ship for you.” Grom nodded. “Alright then, so back to our little discussion of price—”

  “I think we’ve said all that needs to be said on that subject.” Grom clasped a friendly hand onto Cyril’s shoulder. “And I’ll tell you what, after we take what we need from our old Slipsteam, we’ll leave you what’s left.” The captain led Cyril back to the front of the store with Sarah hurrying along behind them.

  The crew was happily surprised to hear the news of the new ship. They began to pack immediately, and most of them were finished within the hour. Slick had woken up while the captain and Sarah were away, and even though he wasn’t quite feeling up to flying, he jumped at the chance to get some fresh air. He went with Wex to investigate the ship, and they brought Reema along as well to double check that she felt comfortable behind the controls of the Gray Arrow. Since Sarah didn’t have anything to pack, she offered to help Grom.

  “I don’t have much,” Grom announced as they entered his chambers. “Most of the stuff in my room was left over from the last captain.”

  “You don’t want to take any of it.” Sarah ran her hand across his bed. “Not even the sheets?”

  Grom cleared his throat. “Yes, okay, grab the sheets. Here.” He got on his hands and knees and started riffling under his bed. “I think I have a box down here.” He pulled a medium sized cardboard box out and handed it to Sarah. “Throw the sheets in here along with any item of clothing you find.”

  “You got it.” Sarah went to work. She was done in ten minutes. Grom, in the meantime, had cleared out his desk drawers and his bedside tables. He was holding all of his personal items in his arms and let them fall, carelessly into the box on top of all his clothes. Sarah reached for the box, and as she did, she noticed a picture of a young Kylen woman sitting on the top of the pile. “Is this…”

  “My wife, yes.” Grom took the photo. “Beautiful, wasn’t she?”

  “Uh, yes, I mean—”

  “Oh, never mind.” Grom smiled. “I know you could never find an alien like her to be beautiful. I know what we look like to you. What I look like.”

  Sarah put the box down on the bed. “What do you think you look like to me?”

  “Like a monster,” Grom answered. He was staring out his favorite window.

  Sarah stood behind him, wishing she had taken the time to get one last view out of this window while they were still flying. “You don’t look like a monster to me.”

  Grom turned and looked at her.

  “You just look lost.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Peace Offerings in the Form of Chocolate

  The Gray Arrow passed Wex’s inspection with flying colors. Delighted, Grom told the crew to start heading to the shop with all their stuff. Sarah helped Nickle pack the last of his medical supplies and the two of them headed towards the new ship, towards their new journey. Cyril had his own dock in the back of his store so they could just load up and ship out directly from there. Once Sarah and the doctor arrived, most of the crewmembers had already called dibs on a room, leaving them to pick from the smallest or most dimly lit.

  “Well, this is just great.” Nickle looked around at the first open bedroom they found. “It’s way too dark in here to do any proper medical procedures!”

  “Let’s go look at the others,” Sarah said. “I’m sure we can find one with better light.”

  “It doesn’t even matter. It’s not like the medicine I practice for these people is any kind of miracle.” Nickle threw the box he was carrying onto the bunk. “I had to fight them for days just to get myself a decent stethoscope.”

  “I’m sorry, Nickle.” Sarah put her box down and sat next to the doctor. “I wish there was something I could do.”

  “We’ll still work on the radio, right?” Nickle asked. “We’re still going to try to escape?”

  “Of course,” Sarah answered, trying to sound resolute, though in reality she had doubts about their chances of escape. The Gray Arrow was faster and could maneuver better than their last ship, plus with all the enhancements Grom is having Wex install, it would prove to be quite the war machine. Sarah felt guilty over misleading Nickle, but she couldn’t handle a repeat of last time. If he accused her of no longer caring about the escape, she wasn’t sure she could adequately defend her position, because the truth was, she didn’t.

  The captain wasn’t very fond of his new chambers. They were large, and it was centrally located, but he felt the windows were too small. He had poked his head into every other room, even the incredibly small servants quarters, just to make sure nobody had bigger windows. Unfortunately, his measly one and a half meter by two meter windows were the largest and would have to suffice.

  After he finished unpacking, Grom went to meet with Cyril to draw up the ship’s paperwork. They needed to get the Gray Arrow registered so that they could easily be identified when approaching new planets and stations. The meeting went off without a hitch, though Cyril did try to sell Grom on a few more unnecessary enhancements to the ship, and the captain had to eventually give the shop owner a small growl to ensure he understood who was in charge. He made one last pit stop at the general store before heading back to the ship.

  Back on the Gray Arrow he met with Slick who was supervising Reema in the cockpit as they prepared for takeoff.

  “How are you feeling?” Grom asked.

  Slick corrected Reema’s grip on the steering apparatus. “On the up and up, sir. I gotta tell you, that Nickle is a real godsend. I mean, considering how little equipment he’s working with, I think it’s fair to say he’s a miracle worker.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Grom looked to Reema. “You feel confident about flying this thing?”

  “I always feel confident, Captain.” Grom could see Reema smiling in the reflection of the cockpit window. “Whether or not that confidence is justified, well, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “She’ll be fine. And I’ll be here the entire time,” Slick assured Grom.

  “Alright then.” Grom clasped his hand on Reema’s shoulder. “Let’s fire this thing up and see what she’s made of.”

  Reema bit her lip hungrily and flipped the main power switch. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say that all day, Captain.”

  Nickle seemed like he wanted to be left alone after they finished unpacking his stuff, so Sarah ventured to pick out a room on her own. There was only one left, and it was by far the smallest, but considering Sarah had no personal items, she figured it was as much space as she could really hope for.

  A calm wave of exhaustion washed over her, like the warm water waves that crashed against the shore of the island town she once called home. She fell asleep almost instantly and would have remained swimming in that tranquil, subconscious sea had she not been woken up an hour later by a loud, hard knock.

  Sitting up, Sarah instinctively reached for the gamma blaster which lay on the ground next to her bed. “Who is it?”

  “It’s Grom.”

  Sarah’s muscles relaxed and she left the gun where it was. She opened the door. “Why did you k
nock like that?”

  “Like what?” Grom’s arms were filled with an assortment of bags. Sarah let him in.

  “Like a prison guard coming to take a death row inmate to the chair.”

  Grom frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Anyway,” he motioned to all the bags, which he had carelessly thrown on the floor, “I’ve brought you a few things.”

  Sarah moved past him and to the pile of goodie bags. Underneath all the plastic and paper bags, Sarah’s eye caught a glimpse of a recognizable shade of blue. She greedily plunged her hand into the pile and ripped free the small duffle bag she hadn’t seen she was on the shuttle home.

  “My stuff!” She beamed. “But how did you…?”

  “A crew member found it in Jent’s room while they were cleaning it out. Hopefully everything is in there still. We found some of what seemed to be your clothes strewn about, but I sent those to be washed. I figured you wouldn’t want to wear that Selachi’s stench.”

  “You figured right.” Sarah laughed. “Thank you.”

  “No need to thank me. It’s your stuff. I simply returned property that should not have been stolen in the first place.”

  Sarah turned back to the pile. “So what’s all this?”

  “It’s food, of course.”

  Sarah’s eyes widened and she started tearing open all the various bags. She took immediate comfort in the florescent colors of human food packaging. The bright orange and yellow labels of instant noodles, the vibrant purple logo on the massive jar of peanut butter, and the rainbow of wrappers that made up all the different earthly candy bars.

  Without hesitating, Sarah reached for the first chocolate bar she saw and tore into it. “Now this,” she said in between bites, “this is chocolate.”