Using some of the money Grom had given to her for a shuttle home, Sarah rented a nice hotel room for the week. After checking in, she took a luxuriously long, hot shower. There were showers on the Slipsteam and Gray Arrow, but they were communal. The stalls were divided by short plates of plastic that anyone could easily steal a peek around. In order to avoid prying eyes, Sarah showered only at night and would do so in under a minute. Now she had a full size shower, all to herself, and she intended on taking advantage of it.

She soaped down, washed her hair, and shaved with a cheap razor she found in the shop of the hotel lobby. Then she stood motionless, exhausted, in the steamy cocoon, and thought about the calls she had to make. She missed her family and friends so much, and hearing their voices, she knew, was going to compound all those already intense emotions. What am I going to say? she wondered. How do I even begin to explain to them?

She remained in the shower until the heat began to give her a headache. Wrapped in a fresh-smelling, fluffy robe, she sat on the bed, staring at the room’s communicator. Earlier, when she asked the front desk worker how far the range was on their room radios, she had secretly hoped he would say they only worked locally, wishing to buy herself just a little bit more time before having to face her old life. But the kind alien had informed her that the rooms had fantastically large ranges, and that she would be charged for her calls according on how much radio power it took the hotel to reach her intended destination.

Sarah’s pruned fingers curled over the communicator’s receiver and she brought it to her ear. Without even having to press a button, she was immediately connected to the Grendle Port 4 Communication Transfer Department. She decided to call Margaret first. She should be back at school now, seeing as break ended over two weeks ago, so she asked the woman on the other line to transfer her to Reeveral Port.

“Reeveral Port Communication Department, how may I direct your call?” The man’s voice sounded forced, as if his supervisor had been standing right behind him and he was trying to find the friendliest tone of voice possible.

“Yes, hi, uh, can you transfer me to Margaret Urma, please? She should be in the Reeveral Port School of Engineering database.”

“One moment please.”

Sarah played with the receiver cord anxiously. She considered hanging up, just for a split second, when the operator's voice returned.

“Transferring you now.”

The line went quiet, then there was a steady beeping as she waited for her friend to pick up. “Come on Margaret, pick up. Pick up. It’s Braya who doesn’t do unknown numbers, not you!”

“Hello?”

A pit in Sarah’s stomach, one she didn’t even know was there, was removed instantly by the sound of her friend’s familiar, slightly irritated voice.

“Margaret.” Sarah’s own voice came out more as a croak. She coughed a few times.

“Who is this?”

Sarah finished clearing her throat and said, “Margaret, it’s me. It’s Sarah.”

Margaret was silent for a moment. “If this is some sort of prank, I swear to god—”

“No, it’s not a prank. It’s really me.”

“Sarah?” Margaret’s voice was strained now. “You’re alive?”

“Yes, I’m alive!”

“Where are you?”

“Well, that’s kind of a long story…”

“Sarah, you’ve been gone for almost two months! I don’t care if it’s a long story, I’ve got time!”

Sarah sighed. She hadn’t prepared to tell her friend everything. She was hoping everyone would allow her to get away with some vague answers and shallow explanations, but she should have known better when it came to Margaret.

“Okay, I guess I’ll start from my shuttle getting hijacked by space pirates,” Sarah said.

“I think that’s a great place to start.”

“Holy shit.” That was all Margaret had to say once Sarah concluded her epic tale. “I just can’t believe…I mean…holy shit.”

“Yeah, so, anyway, that’s what I’ve been up to.”

“And I thought I was the interesting one in our group.”

“I always thought it was Braya.” Sarah paused for a moment, allowing the joke to sink in. Then Margaret burst into laughter, and Sarah chuckled. “Speaking of Braya, do you know if she’s in class right now? I’m going to call her next.”

“Oh, right. Braya.” Margaret’s tone changed.

“What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, yeah she’s fine. She’s just not at school this semester.”

“Why? What happened?”

Margaret said nothing for a few seconds, then awkwardly said, “Well, you happened, Sarah. We thought you were dead.”

Sarah’s heart sunk. She had been so distracted with telling her wild story, and with hoping her friends and family would respect her decision to stay, she had completely forgotten about what they all must have been going through while she was gone.

“Margaret, I’m so sorry.” Sarah started crying. “I know it must have been scary not knowing what happened to me.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask for this. But yeah, it was terrifying. And then, after a while, it was just devastating. Your family had a service for you. Braya went, but I…I just couldn’t. I hope that didn’t offend them.”

“They had a service?” The idea that her family might believe her to be dead had crossed Sarah’s mind a few times while she had been gone, but the reality of what that meant never totally dawned on her. She was too preoccupied over trying to stay alive to worry about whether others thought she was dead. “Oh my god.”

“I heard the service was lovely, so at least you know your family did you right.” Sarah let out a small laugh, and Margaret continued. “It was all too much for Braya, so she decided to take a semester off. I preferred keeping myself busy, but I understand how she felt. She’s back home with her family. You can reach her there.”

“Okay.”

“So, I take it you’re hoping on the first shuttle back to Earth? Are you planning on coming back to school in the spring, or have you not thought that far ahead?”

Sarah’s voice was stuck in her throat like a stubborn popcorn kernel. “Um, well,” she struggled, “about that…”

“What? Is there something wrong? Are you still in trouble?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I’m no longer in danger or anything. I…I guess I’ll just come right out and say it. I’m staying.”

“On Grendle Port 4? Why? Is that some sweet vacation spot I don’t know about?”

“No, not on Grendle Port 4.” Sarah sucked in a deep breath. “I mean, I’m staying with Grom.”

“The Kylen captain who you’re sleeping with?” Margaret asked.

“Yes, I mean, sort of. I’m not just staying for him. I’m staying for me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Margaret, I have a place here. I have a job. All my skills are being utilized and appreciated. And, well, it’s fun.”

“Fun?” Margaret scoffed. “Being held against your will, your life threatened on a daily basis, that’s fun?”

“Not that part, no. But the traveling, the missions. It’s all very exciting. And it’s where I want to be.”

“Oh my god.” Margaret said. “You love him.”

“Who?” Sarah laughed. “Grom? No way!”

“You absolutely love him.”

“That’s insane!”

“This whole thing is insane, Sarah!” Margaret said. “Everything you’ve told me has been completely bonkers, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Just like it’s true that you love this Grum guy.”

“Grom.” Sarah corrected. “And no, I do not.”

“But you slept with him. Twice.”

“So what, now sex equals love? Because if that’s the case, then you must be in love with half the engineering department by now.”

“Ha!” Margaret laughed. “Okay, I’ll give it to you, that was a good one. But that’s not what I meant. If he were any other crew member, I would agree it was just sex. But he’s the guy who abducted you, enslaved you—”

“He’s also the one who saved me from being sold at the markets and kept the crew from hurting me.”

“See!” Margaret yelled. “Now you’re defending him. This is exactly my point, you should loathe this guy, but instead, you’re sleeping with him. You can deny it all you want, but there’s real passion between you two.”

“Look, I have to go. This call is costing me a small fortune, and I still have three more to make.”

“Okay, but you know I’m right.”

“Whatever,” Sarah said. “So, I guess, I’ll talk to you later.”

“I guess so.”

“I miss you so much, Margaret.”

“I miss you too. Promise me you’ll call more?”

“I promise.”

“And, uh, we need a code word, in case anything goes wrong, in case you get taken captive again.”

“Uh, alright.” Sarah though for a moment. “How about grape juice?”

“Bleh, I hate grape juice.”

“I do too, which is why it’s perfect. We’ll never accidently bring it up.”

“Alright, sure. Grape juice it is.”

“Okay, well.” Sarah swallowed her sadness and fought back the tears. “I’ll call you when I can. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Be safe, have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“That doesn’t exclude much, but okay. Goodbye, Margaret.”

“Goodbye, Sarah.”

Sarah heard a faint click as she put the receiver back on its dock. It was late, the sun had already gone down. She couldn't bring herself to make another call that night. Instead, she crumpled into a ball on her bed and cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, Sarah spent nearly two hours on the phone with Braya. Her friend kept interrupting Sarah’s story to ask a slew of questions that sent their conversation off on wild tangents. Sarah recognized that this was Braya’s way of making sense of everything that happened, and she was happy to go over whatever details her friend needed if it meant she might have an easier time accepting Sarah’s decision to stay on the Gray Arrow.

When Sarah revealed this plan, Braya cried, a lot. Eventually she came around, but only after Sarah promised to call her and send her electronic letters whenever the chance arose. She could tell Braya didn’t completely approve of her decision, but then again, Braya didn’t approve of the time Sarah got a third piercing in her ear, so she had given up trying to appease her friend long ago.

They said a tearful goodbye, full of promises and lots of “I miss yous,” and then they hung up.

Her call with Bernie only lasted twenty minutes. This was partially due to the fact that Sarah had edited her story a bit, taking out the parts about her and Grom, and focused mainly on the aspects that involved ship repair. It was also due to Bernie’s general demeanor and disdain for long, drawn out conversation. He understood, probably better than anyone, why Sarah decided to stay with the crew. He had worked a similar gig in his twenties and remembered those years being some of the best in his life.

Before they hung up, he told her that he would always have a place for her in his shop, if and when she ever decided to return to Reeveral Port, and as he said this, Sarah thought she could hear the sound of his voice cracking, just a little.

Finally, she called her parents.

Her mother fainted. Sarah had said, “Mom, it’s me,” and that was all it took. She heard a crashing sound, likely that of the receiver hitting the floor, then a few seconds later, Sarah heard her father frantically talking to her mother. Sarah yelled, “Dad! Can you hear me! It’s Sarah! Pick up the phone!”

“Sarah?” Her father started coughing.

“Dad, it’s me. Is Mom okay?”

“Your mother,” he coughed a few times, “is fine. She’s coming to. She just had a bit of a spill, no need to worry.” He was speaking calmly, then suddenly Thomas Dawson’s voice changed to one of shock and desperation. “Wait a minute, Sarah? You’re alive?”

“Yes, Dad. I’m alive. Is Mom going to make it?”

Her dad laughed, “Leave it to your mother to steal your thunder.”

She spent most of the day talking to her parents. After a few hours, when she dared to mention how much the call might be costing her, Sarah’s mother forbade her from hanging up, telling her to forget about the money, they’d wire her some pinches.

Once she had told them everything, she asked her parents how they were doing. They didn’t quite know how to respond. She said she heard they had a service, to which her father awkwardly replied, “Yes. You had a great turnout.”

When she asked about her father’s health, there was a long, heavy silence. Finally, her dad said, “Well, actually, I’ve been doing a lot better.”

“Wait, really?” Sarah asked. “That’s wonderful!”

“Yes. It is.” Her father let out a small, uncomfortable cough. “I got a new doctor. She put me on some amazing new drug, and everything is looking up.”

“That’s amazing news,” Sarah said. “So why do you sound so dreary?”

“We have to tell you something, dear,” her mother said.

“Okay…” Sarah’s hands began to sweat.

“You have to realize, we thought you were dead,” she continued, “and well, we had this money, the money that was set aside for your last two years of school, and...”

“We used your college fund to pay for my new treatment,” her father explained.

“Oh.” Sarah nearly laughed she was so relieved.

“We’re so sorry, sweetie,” her mother started to apologize.

“No, it’s okay!”

“We’re going to find the money again, though,” her father added. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to quit school. We’ll make it work.”

“Well, actually,” Sarah mustered up whatever courage she had left. “I have something to tell you guys, too.”