Captain’s Claimed Property

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Captain’s Claimed Property Page 6

by Hollie Hutchins


  Unable to find an argument against Sarah’s final point, Nickle and Wex simply nodded and the three rebels set off to fulfill their respective duties.

  They had agreed to meet two hours later, back in Wex’s room, to give a report on their findings and to prepare for the next step in the plan. Wex had given Sarah the stolen watch he had just repaired, though he hesitated initially when she asked for it. He had no way of knowing the actual worth of the Rolex watch, but it was seemed expensive. Plus, it was pretty.

  Sarah slipped into Wex’s chambers five minutes after the set time. Wex was already inside, sitting on his bed. He moved to cover the corner of his bed with his blanket when the door opened.

  “Oh, it’s just you.” Wex let go of his tight grip on the blanket.

  “I take it you found some stuff?” Sarah moved towards the bed and lifted a corner of the blanket.

  “Don’t get too excited.”

  Underneath, Sarah counted a medium sized gamma-blaster, a human-made hand gun, and an assortment of knives—most of which she could tell came directly from the kitchen’s cutlery set.

  “This is actually more than I thought we’d find.”

  “Yeah, well, like I said,” Wex grabbed the gamma blaster, “don’t get too excited. This is one of Jent’s old guns, and he rigged his trigger up with a fingerprint scanner, meaning it won’t fire for us. The human gun is out of rounds. And most of these knives haven’t been sharpened since before you were born.”

  “Well can’t you fiddle with the blaster? Trick the triggers?”

  “I’m not a weapons engineer!” Wex said. “I’d have no idea where to even start!”

  Sarah sat down and nervously ran her hands through her hair. “So, what you’re saying is the weapons are virtually useless.”

  “Well…yeah.”

  “Then why’d you even bother bringing them back?” Sarah demanded.

  “I didn’t want to come back empty handed.” Wex looked at his feet and mumbled, “Even though you’re human, you’re kind of scary when you’re angry.”

  Sarah had no response. Truth be told, she wasn’t even really listening. Her mind was racing through all the classes she had taken, all the impromptu lessons from Bernie, searching for something useful. Did anyone ever talk about fingerprint scanners? Some ships have those on their controls. Maybe if we spend the night sharpening the knives and looking for bullets.

  After fifteen minutes of mental spiraling, Sarah finally came up for air. She checked her watch and realized Nickle was now twenty minutes late.

  “It’s not like him,” Wex said half an hour later. “He’s a very punctual person.”

  This sent Sarah down another rabbit hole as she began to ruminate over all the terrible things that could have happened to the innocent man she roped into her scheme. Finally, a little over an hour later, Nickle showed up.

  “Nickle!” Sarah ran to shut the door behind him. She could tell something was wrong, though the doctor appeared physically unharmed. “What happened?”

  Nickle turned to her and sighed. “They’re gone.”

  “What?” Sarah gawked.

  Wex stood up. “Who’s gone?”

  “The prisoners. They’re gone.”

  “You mean…” Sarah’s words stopped in her throat.

  Wex finished her sentence. “You mean they’re dead?”

  Nickle shook his head. “Not dead. Not yet. But they’re gone.”

  “I don’t understand.” Sarah sat down on the bed. “Tell me what happened.”

  Nickle took a seat in the desk chair, his body sinking into it with heavy disappointment. “I got some guys talking. I didn’t even need the Hexa-Juice. Apparently, we’ve been orbiting planet Grendle for the last few hours. The larger docks are all closed, so we can’t land until morning. The problem is, the lines to land can get pretty long, and the markets open early.” Nickle took in a deep breath and released it slowly, testing Sarah’s patience. “Well, that made Reema upset, seeing as it’s very important, as a seller, to get to the markets early. Most business is done immediately after the markets open. She wanted to make sure she got her merchandise there on time, and since the smaller docks are open all night…”

  Wex understood. “She took the pod.”

  Nickle’s face confirmed Wex’s assumption, but Sarah was still confused. “The pod? Slipsteams don’t have pods!”

  “This one does,” Wex corrected. “Grom had me install one from a different Gearn ship so we didn’t always have to pay larger dock fees when we land. Sometimes, if the cargo is small enough, we’ll just use the pod.”

  Sarah’s heart sank, and her eyes swam. “So the prisoners are already on Grendle?”

  She was met with an affirming silence.

  “And by the time we get there tomorrow?”

  “They’ll likely have been sold.” Nickle was on the verge of tears himself. “One of the guys was saying how human slaves always go the fastest, and apparently there’s some tax free thing happening this week that have completely flooded the markets with eager customers.”

  Sarah had been replaying these words in her head for hours. Not only had they not docked in time to save any of the prisoners at the market, but they were still waiting in line to dock an hour after the markets had closed for the day. Sarah had heard the sound of the pod returning to the main ship, but she didn’t have the heart to go investigate if any of the humans didn’t sell. A part of her knew none of them made it back from the markets, the same part of her that feared she was never getting off this ship alive.

  10

  Grendle Port 6

  There was a knock at her door, and then the sound of her visitor letting himself in. Sarah was turned away from the door, and as the intruder turned on the overhead light, his shadow was cast over her body and onto the wall in front of her. The Kylen’s shadow was near twice as large as his actual size, and the outline of his massive, deadly horns forced Sarah out of her previous nightmare and into her present one.

  “Come with me.” Grom’s gruff voice pierced Sarah’s ear like a dull knife.

  She rose from her bunk with defeated indifference and adjusted the doctor’s coat, making sure the dull knife she had taken from Wex’s stash was still securely tucked in her back pocket. Keeping her head down, she made her way past the captain and stood in the hallway, silently awaiting his next order.

  “This way.” Grom pointed to the left and Sarah walked obediently. The Kylen attempted to strike up a conversation as he and Sarah weaved their way through the poorly designed maze of the Slipsteam’s hallways. “Wex has removed the gravity drive from the ship and taken it to the repair shop. They are reviewing the damage and should have a report for us when we get there.”

  Sarah nodded without looking up from the floor.

  “I spoke to him this morning. Wex, I mean. He said you fixed the intercom system?”

  “Yes.”

  “Right, well, good.”

  The two walked in silence. Just as they were approaching the ship’s exit, Grom grabbed Sarah’s shoulder roughly and turned her around. “Hey! Look at me.”

  Sarah obeyed.

  “I don’t have to take you on this little field trip, you know. I thought you’d be grateful for the chance to get off the ship.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah answered methodically.

  “I don’t want your empty thank yous!” Grom shoved Sarah’s shoulder lightly. “What’s wrong with you? Are you sick?”

  “No, sir. I’m fine. Let’s go, we don’t want to be late.”

  Grom’s breath shortened as his irritation began to bubble over. He stepped closer to Sarah, but even the threat of his physical presence fell short of rousing her. He loomed over her, his gray eyes burning a hole in the top of her skull, for near a minute. Finally, his stare broke, and he slammed his fist into the red button by the door. The large, airlock door hissed as it opened, revealing the loud and crowded hustle and bustle that had overwhelmed Grendle Port 6.

  Gr
om drew his weapon and pushed it into the small of Sarah’s back. “No funny business, you hear me?”

  “I hear you.”

  They approached the security checkpoint for docks 26-34. The line went fairly quickly, seeing as the markets had closed and everyone was pretty much on their way out of Grendle Port 6. There were two security personnel. One was an average sized alien, with four arms perfect for searching multiple pockets and bags at the same time. The other was a massive, red-eyed alien with slimy skin and missing teeth.

  Sarah counted out the aliens in line in front of her and, with dismay, realized she was likely to be searched by the larger, scarier alien. She forced herself to snap out of her depressed haze and focus. This was a dangerous planet, and she stuck out like, well, like exactly what she was: a human in an alien’s world. Not to mention she had a weapon hidden. How could I have been so stupid! The line moved forward and suddenly she was next.

  The red-eyed alien motioned for her to come over. She couldn’t move. Grom pushed his gun into her back again and growled. “What are you waiting for. Go.” Then he pulled the gun back and shoved her with his hand. She had to take a few steps in order to keep herself from falling, and by the time she found her footing she was close enough for the alien to wrap one of his slimy hands around her.

  “Well what do we have here?” The alien started running his hands along her arms. “You’re a little late for the markets, sweetheart.” He searched all the pockets of the lab coat and then spun her around to face him. “But if he’s still looking to sell you, I might be interested in making an offer.”

  “I’m not for sale.”

  “Everything’s for sale, if you can offer the right price.” The alien reached to remove Sarah’s coat, but she crossed her arms so he couldn’t. “I have to check your pants pockets,” The alien said, in a tone that inspired no room for arguing.

  “I’ll just lift my jacket up.” Sarah demonstrated how she could lift the bottom of the lab coat, high enough that he could check her pockets.

  “What’s taking so long?” an alien in line behind them yelled.

  “It takes as long as it takes!” the four armed security personal yelled back. She looked over to the red-eyed one. “Hurry it up there, would you? I want to get home before the game starts. It’s the galactic cup.”

  The alien searching Sarah groaned then stuck his hand into one of her front pockets. His nails were short, but filed into tiny, razor like points that poked holes in the fabric of Sarah’s favorite jeans. “These pockets are so small!” The alien complained as he struggled to get his hand out. While he was distracted, Sarah took the opportunity to subtly grab the knife from her back pocket and slip it into one of her coat pockets. Sending a silent prayer to which ever sexist fashion designer decided women didn’t need to carry things, Sarah looked around to make sure no one saw her little maneuver. She spotted Grom waiting to her left, but he was looking the other way. His security search had been completed in a timely matter, unlike hers, which was still happening with no apparent end in sight.

  The alien took his time checking her back pockets. He kept Sarah facing him, his arms wrapped around to her back side, and smiled at her the entire time. The few teeth he had left were yellowed and his gums black. Sarah knew any escape attempt would be futile, but the knife still burned a hole in her pocket. It took everything in her power not to reach for it and plunge it deep into the alien’s slightly protruding belly.

  When he was finally done searching her person, he commanded her to open her mouth.

  “Excuse me?” Sarah instinctively reached a hand to her lips.

  “I need to check and make sure you’re not trying to smuggle anything in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

  “Nobody else is having their mouth checked!” Sarah argued.

  “Nobody else is human.” The alien pulled Sarah into a close embrace, “Now this will go a lot quicker if you just open up.”

  Sarah closed her mouth tight and shook her head. She had been poked, prodded, and otherwise violated too many times the past few days. She was not going to willingly let this disgusting slime ball put his fingers in her mouth. Unfortunately, he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He kept one arm tight around her, pinning hers to her side, and with the other hand he reached for her mouth. He skillfully wriggled his nail between her lips and teeth. This clearly wasn’t his first time dealing with an unruly patron. His strong fingers forced Sarah’s jaw open and he clawed around carelessly. He tasted like dirt and old cheese.

  “You know, human tongues go for a lot at the market,” he whispered in Sarah’s ear and then without warning used one of his nails to slice the side of her tongue. The skin broke and blood filled Sarah’s mouth. She bit down hard and the alien screamed in anger. He released her, and, without thinking, she called for Grom. The Kylen was at her side in a flash.

  “Your slave bit me!” The alien was holding his sore hand as if it had just been crushed by the wheel of an industrial rover.

  Grom grabbed his wrist and examined the hand. “Seems fine to me.” He turned to Sarah. “Are you okay?”

  She was holding the side of her face, and even though her entire mouth was throbbing, Sarah already felt embarrassed enough that she had to be saved. She nodded yes and tried to push back the oncoming tears.

  “Good. Then we will be on our way.”

  “You most certainly will not—”

  “Vaniv!” the four arm alien called to her partner. She had heard all the commotion and was walking towards the group. “Let them go.”

  “But boss, you don’t understand—”

  “Vaniv!” she yelled even louder. She moved her head in Grom’s direction, prompting the red-eyed alien to take a better look at his challenger. Whether it was Grom’s size, or simply the fact that he was a Kylen, Sarah wasn’t sure, the alien immediately stopped cradling his hand and gave Grom a winning smile.

  “I’m sorry, sir. This whole thing was entirely my fault. You folks go on ahead.”

  Grom offered nothing in the way of thanks or pleasantries. He grabbed Sarah by the arm and led her away from the checkpoint. Once they were out of earshot, Sarah swallowed her pride, and a little bit of blood, and said something she felt needed to be said.

  “Thank you.”

  Grom didn’t hear her at first. “What?”

  “I said thank you.” She spoke a bit louder, still unable to look at him.

  The captain cleared his throat. “I didn’t do it for you.” He shifted his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I did it for the sake of my ship. I can’t have you getting yourself killed before we get this new gravity drive. But don’t get used to my protection. Once the Slipsteam is back in tip-top shape—”

  “Still,” Sarah interrupted, completely uninterested in listening to another one of Grom’s failed intimidation attempts. “Thank you.” She started walking ahead of him, forcing him to get over whatever angry feelings were brewing, and follow her.

  11

  The Dragon

  The pain in Sarah’s mouth had receded to a constant ache, and the bleeding had stopped by the time she and Grom arrived at the repair shop. The place had no front lobby, only a counter with windows that opened up into the street and a two door garage on the right. Grom approached the counter and tapped the silver bell in front of him, which made such a soft noise it was a wonder any of the mechanics heard it over the sounds of the crowd and that of the heavy machinery being used in the garages. But, someone did hear it, the owner of the shop in fact, who was an overweight, greasy looking halfsie with yellowy skin and long, oily hair. Sarah was certain he was part human, based on his facial features, but what made up the rest of him she hadn’t the slightest clue and was not about to ask.

  “You must be Grom. My name’s Leon.” The halfsie reached one of his thick hands over the counter, as if to shake, but Grom kept his arms locked at his side. “It’s nice to meet you.” the shop owner took his hand back. “I’ve never actually met a Kylen
before, believe it or not. We used to have a rule, not to, uh, accept work from...well, never mind that now. Times have changed, economies have tanked, and here we are. So, about your gravity drive.” Leon motioned for Grom to follow him over to the garage and disappeared through a door in the corner of the room behind the counter.

  Sarah let Grom lead the way, surveying the odds and ends of the shop, noting what needed updating, what laws were being broken, and the shocking amount of illegal parts being sold. There were weapon enhancers, most of which had been outlawed by the galactic courts; shield tamperings, which violated most galaxy peace agreements; and endless piles of spare parts that were either broken or on their last leg. Either way, they most certainly should not have been for sale.

  The old gravity drive sat in the middle of the first room of the garage. Some of its wires were exposed, and the charge compartment had been removed entirely.

  “Yeah, this baby was on her deathbed when your boy Wex brought her to me,” Leon said, putting his hand lovingly on top of the drive. “I did all I could. But we lost her.”

  “You’re saying we need a new one?” Grom asked. “There’s no way to fix this one?”

  “Seeing as how he ripped out the charge,” Sarah answered, “there’s absolutely no fixing it.”

  Grom turned to Sarah. “Wait, you’re saying he broke it?”

  “Well—”

  “Now hang on just a minute!” Leon moved his hands frantically. “I did no such thing. Look, the drive was dead on arrival. Your maintenance man said so himself! He said if I had the parts I could try replacing the charge, but that it was a one in a million chance. So, I tried, and it failed. End of story.”

  Grom looked at Sarah to confirm. Sarah nodded, insinuating his story made sense, but added, “You still should have been more careful removing the charge. The connecting wires look shredded.”

 

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