The ship was alive and buzzing as it pulled into dock 32 of Grendle Port 6. Aside from Jent, the crew had not stepped foot on land for over a month, and even though Grendle Port 6 was not technically “land” since it was one of the many orbiting ports of the planet Grendle made entirely out of metal and space grade plastics, everyone was relieved to be off the unstable and ever jerky Slipsteam. A deep, authoritative voice echoed throughout the ship as the gravity drive slowly turned off, and the weight of the port’s artificial gravity field took effect.

“Welcome to Grendle Port 6. Please note that your ship, your belongings, and your person will be searched upon both your arrival and departure. The distribution of any illegal items, a list of which can be found posted at each dock, will result in your arrest and ultimate execution. Thank you, and enjoy your visit to Grendle Port 6. Don’t forget to check out our trading markets. This week only human slaves are galactic tax free!”

The message was repeated in three other languages, none of which Sarah spoke, which was for the best seeing as how upset she felt hearing it the first time. The word “slave” had made her body cringe as she lay curled up in her bunk, the same position she had occupied since about eleven o'clock the night before. The skin on her cheeks were dry and red from all the crying, and she was shocked to discover that there were any tears left. But the announcement reminded her of previous night’s events, and she felt yet another wave of despair crash over her.

After hatching her plan with Wex and Nickle the night before, Sarah left feeling very confident. She was determined to help the other captors, and now that she knew the locks didn’t work, and had two crew members on her side, she thought the task would be easy. First, she sent Wex to collect any extra weapons that might be lying around the ship. The maintenance man had reminded Sarah that their ship was not necessarily the most organized, and the idea that this hodge-podge crew of criminals would have some sort of regulated and coordinated arsenal was laughable.

“But there are weapons on the ship?” Sarah asked.

“Well, yes. Of course. But if they aren’t kept on someone’s hip, they are kept hidden in their chambers. Nobody would willing give up his weapon to keep in some controlled room.”

“So you need to take them from the rooms.”

“Are you nuts?” Wex looked at Nickle for support, but the doctor simply referred back Sarah. “If these guys find me snooping around in their room, they’ll kill me for sure. And not quickly, I might add. We have two professional torturers on board!”

“Just tell them you are doing some sort of routine maintenance check.”

“On their guns?”

“Why not?”

Wex started to launch into a list of all the reasons why not, but when he looked up into Sarah’s freckled, stern face, he stopped short.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But if I get caught, don’t be surprised if I sell you out.”

Sarah nodded. “I understand.” She turned to Nickle. “While he’s collecting the weapons, I need you to figure out exactly what the plan is for removing the prisoners tomorrow.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

“Just get someone talking. I’m sure there’s at least one crew member itching to discuss the evil plan. And if you can’t seem to crack anyone,” Sarah pointed to the half empty bottle of what looked like Hexa-Juice sitting on the shelf above Wex’s bed, “give them a little liquid encouragement.”

“Hey! That’s mine.” Wex moved towards the bottle defensively. “That was a birthday gift. It comes straight from the Para distillery that invented Hexa-Juice.”

Sarah frowned. “Oh c’mon, that bottle looks exactly like the cheap stuff. Someone just ripped the label off.”

Wex grabbed the bottle and examined it. “Hmmm.” He looked up at Nickle. “Care to explain yourself?”

The doctor’s face flushed with embarrassment. “What can I say? Being a slave doesn’t pay well!”

“Will you two focus!” Sarah snatched the bottle from Wex. “Expensive or not, it’s alcoholic, right?”

“Well now I’m not so sure,” Wex said, looking accusingly at Nickle.

“Yes, it’s alcoholic.”

“Good.” Sarah passed the Hexa-Juice to the doctor. “Use it. And if we pull this off, I’ll buy you each a bottle.”

“The expensive kind?” Wex’s eyebrows raised with hope.

“Don’t push it.”

“So, while we’re getting weapons and info, what will you be doing?” Nickle asked.

“I’m going to get back to work on my general ship maintenance.” Wex went to say something, likely to argue with Sarah’s role, but she cut him off. “It will look suspicious if I’m found sneaking around or asking too many questions.”

“And you think it won’t look suspicious for us?” Wex retorted.

“Grom gave me open access to the ship under the guise that I would be fixing stuff all day! If he comes for a progress report, and I have nothing to show for my time, he’s going to start wondering what I’ve been up to, and then he’s going to start asking questions, and then we’re all going down. Now, if you’re done questioning my plan, it’s time to set it into motion.”

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.