Sarah’s apprenticeship with Wex proved to be almost entirely opposite to her arrangement with Bernie. Not only did Wex allow her to actually work on the ship, he insisted that she do everything. At first, Sarah thought Wex was testing her, trying to gauge her abilities, but it quickly became apparent to her that the alien was, in fact, just very lazy, and was more than happy to shrug off his responsibilities and let her carry the load. She didn’t mind, however, as she was grateful for the distraction.

Sarah spent four straight days slaving away on the Slipsteam while Wex lounged nearby, every so often calling out to inform her she had done something wrong. During the evenings, they would meet up with Nickle for dinner, and then the three of them would slink off to Wex’s quarters where Sarah would tinker with the transmitter while the doctor and the maintenance man played cards.

On the night of the fourth day, while Sarah was fiddling with the transmitter’s battery, which she had been doing for over an hour, a loud crackling sound emitted from the speaker.

“Did you hear that?” Sarah interrupted her friends’ poker game.

“Hear what?” Wex didn’t even look up from his hand.

“The transmitter.” She held it out for Wex to hold. “It made a noise. Like it has a signal.”

Wex took the trinket from her and inspected it. “Are you sure—” the sound came through again.

“See!” Sarah snatched it back.

Nickle and Wex put their cards down and watched as Sarah tentatively pressed the call button. “Uh, hello? Do you read me? Is anyone there?”

The communicator was silent for a few moments, and then the crackling sound was heard followed by a fuzzy female voice. “Yes. Hello. I read you. Who is this?”

Sarah frowned, unsure of how to answer. “Who is this?”

“My name is Marcelle. I work for ground control on the planet Kinichi.”

“Kinichi?” Sarah recalled hearing the name said in the kitchen yesterday afternoon. That must be where we are stopping next to refuel. “The big orange planet?”

“Yes. That is the one. My receiver here is showing that your signal is coming from the Slipsteam approaching at a steady 200c, is that correct?”

“Yeah, we are on that ship.”

“Are you calling to report an approximate landing time and request a dock?”

“Uh, no. Actually…” Sarah looked up from the radio and took her finger off the call button. “You guys, what should I say?”

“You could tell her you’re being held prisoner,” Wex suggested.

“Oh! Mention me, too!” Nickle added.

“I don’t see what she is going to be able to do about it.” Sarah took a moment to think.

“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.