The skipper zoomed through the sky, and soon the pull of anti-gravity replaced the planet's gravity. Ahead I could see a small spaceship waiting with a rear bay door open. The inky blackness of space abated as we docked inside and waited for the room to re-pressurize.

As the doors opened, Alavaster tossed his phaser to a guard. "Take her to the lounge and keep an eye on her."

The ring leaders got out first, and when the guard gestured to the door, I exited without a fuss. As we passed through the airlock doors, alarm sirens rang.

All eyes immediately darted to me, and I hunched my shoulders. "Syntech metal ribs. I told you my bracelet had medical stuff. I wasn't kidding."

The skipper pilot shook his head as he got out and typed something into the wall panel while muttering, "Syntech bones are a known issue. I'll lower the security settings, else she'll trigger alarms and scanners left, right, and center."

Alavaster and Pete went down the right corridor while I was guided in the other direction. The expensive rug was worn and frayed, and the paint on the walls was peeling, revealing at least two different colors beneath. This previously top-of-the-line spaceship probably only had about twenty rooms, if I had to guess, not ideal for a game of hide-and-seek if I got away, but the luxury might give me a few more options.

The "lounge" was a handful of couches and chairs scattered around the small room in clusters. I picked a rundown chair, my fingers easily sliding over the hidden charging ports. But they were useless to me unless I had some sort of electronic device.

A couple such entertainment electronics were on some tables, but I didn't dare touch them. Not while two guards were watching my every movement. My mind whirled even as I tried to make my body relax as much as possible.

"How are you doing?" I asked Toby.

"T-they're hooking up the bracelet to the database right now."

"Main ship or that disconnected one?"

"Disconnected. Looks like the one you brought them."

That wasn't good, but if I hadn't been able to figure out a way to get Toby out of my bracelet, these techno-idiots didn't stand a chance.

"Jennisa..."

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned about the trembling in his voice.

"They—they just threatened to destroy the bracelet's coding if that was what it took to get me to transfer. They promised to return the bracelet to you once they docked if I moved willingly."

These men weren't about to let a witness go, but I made sure to keep that thought too quiet for the implant to detect. I didn't know how to reply.

"I'm destroying the Bluetooth link so they can't use it against you once I transfer over. I know you have several backups of the coding saved online. I'll miss you. Stay safe."

A momentary faint buzzing made my heart sink.

"Toby? Toby!"

There was only silence. I leaned forward and rested my head on my knees to hide my tears, not caring if the guards thought I was having a panic attack or a mental breakdown.

It took me some time to pull myself together and form a vague plan. This group wasn't just about to let me go, and I sure as hell wasn't about to just sit here while they determined the best time to kill me and dump my body.

I sat up. "Where's the bathroom?" I asked quietly, not fully trusting my voice at the moment. "That burrito from last night isn't sitting well."

The guard with the phaser frowned at me but stood up. "This way. Try anything stupid, and you'll regret it."

The threat only reinforced my theory that these guards weren't well trained. The other guard remained where he was, scrolling through his phone. To my astonishment, the guard leading me turned his back on me as he walked to the other corridor.

I quickly followed, letting my footsteps fall heavily enough that he knew where I was. As I walked by an end table, a mini tablet tempted me, but the other guard's finger had stopped moving. It was a trap. I kept walking, not even pausing to try and claim I needed reading material in the bathroom.

The guard opened the door and checked inside before standing back. "I'll wait out here."

"Fine by me. I recommend grabbing some air fresheners in case the smell floats down the corridor. I might be a while." I entered the small space and closed the door behind me, locking it.

I immediately climbed onto the toilet seat and pressed the small clips beside the ceiling panel. With a click, it unlocked, and I was able to push it to the side. It took some creative use of the sink and wall lights to push myself into the narrow gap above the ceiling panels.

I closed the panel behind me and began worming my way through the maintenance passages that were used by only the smallest and most unlucky of mechanics. The next room over was a mechanical room, and I squeezed through the hatch and carefully climbed down.

I ran over to the control panel and began typing on the console, quickly hacking into the underlying software. "Come on, come on... Bingo!"

This was a primary control panel. There was still no spaceweb signal—there must have been another blocker on board—but spaceships didn't rely on just the spaceweb for communication or every pirate out there would use them during an attack.

The subweb was older and immensely slower, but very reliable. It wouldn't support a call, and I didn't see the space port's contact frequency, but I could still send an email. I found the email Toby had forwarded to me, and returned it to the same Enforcement Tips email, changing the subject line to read URGENT, explaining that the kidnapped person was on this spaceship and that I needed help now.

Footsteps in the corridor had me scrambling back into the ceiling area. The footsteps went by without pausing. I sighed and leaned my head against the ceiling panel, then started moving again.

I had no idea how often the Enforcement groups checked that email, but I needed to get moving before the guard realized something was afoot. The timestamp had confirmed we had only left port twenty minutes ago, and that gave me a new idea.

A passenger ship like this would have escape pods. And once ejected, it would open up a direct spaceship communication link between the escape pod and the spaceport. I'd be able to call for help, and with us being only twenty minutes out, their sensors would detect it immediately.

If the ship tried to destroy the escape pod, the pilot would end up in prison for life. Alavaster and Pete would be discovered, and probably also be in jail the rest of their lives. 

As long as they didn't harm the escape pod, they'd only face a kidnapping charge that a good lawyer could possibly defend under the excuse of a hired hand having gone space-crazy during her first trip off-world. At most, they'd get a restraining order. I just needed to get to one of those pods.

I eased through the narrow space, trying to move as silently as possible. I peered through small ventilation grates, spotting the two ring leaders in a small dining area. My eyes were drawn to the lump in the shirt pocket, but there was no way I could overpower two men, and I wasn't about to try. Once I ejected the pod, I could get the Enforcement Officers to retrieve it once I showed the old electronic receipt that matched its serial number.

Light came up through another ventilation grate ahead, and I looked down and paused. It was the old spaceship database. My hands itched to undo the latch, but there was no ladder or anything to climb back up. The next room should be the airlock and escape pods.

I quickly crawled ahead to check and came face-to-face with a solid wall of heavy-duty metal. Having confirmed where the airlock was, I wiggled backward—a far harder task than it should have been.

With shaking hands, I undid the maintenance latch and dropped down to the floor, wincing at the thud and how the impact jarred my sore muscles. I darted over to the database, staring down at it. The power was connected, but that was it.

No other devices were in the room. I'd never get another chance to get back in here after this. Never get another chance to rescue Toby.

I gritted my teeth. It wasn't easy to love me, but—blast it!—I'd miss the little bum and his comically naïve comments. And how he cared about me despite all my faults. Even after just a couple of days, he'd become my friend—the only friend I'd had in years.

I grabbed connectors out of a pant pocket and joined two together. Taking a deep breath, I pulled my shirt sleeve down to reach a particular mole several inches below my armpit.

My fingernail carefully peeled back the cosmetic port cover. This data port connected to the special pacemaker beside my heart, and until now, it had only been used for updates or to check the readings.

It had just enough storage to track five years of data, which was actually quite a bit since the pacemaker triggered the cardiac vagus nerve and reminded my heart to beat hundreds of times each day. Hopefully it would be enough space for Toby. The software was definitely old enough since it was the same version as my bracelet.

Even Toby wouldn't have known about this. No one did. It was a secret that I had been too embarrassed and ashamed to admit. Proof that I was faulty. Broken.

Even my medical records didn't mention it; the company who'd put it in had gone bankrupt months later, and I hadn't been to the hospital for anything serious since then.

My fingers trembled as I connected the two ports, flinching as the power surge made my heart stutter for a moment. I began counting, waiting as long as I dared. 28, 29, 30—

Distant shouts had me yanking the cords free and racing for the door. If Toby had managed to upload himself into my bracelet in just a couple of seconds, all I could do was hope I'd given him enough time to cram all his files into my pacemaker. I hadn't fallen over yet, so he had likely left enough of the coding intact to keep my heart functioning.

I raced for the door, then down the corridor to the airlock door labeled Escape Pods, manually pushing the door sideways instead of using the electronic buttons. I staggered to a stop in the doorway. The room was empty. The small spacecrafts weren't here.

Two more signs down the corridor indicated there were two more bays for escape pods. I ran to the next one, which was likewise empty. As I raced to the third one, a shout came from behind.

"I found her!"

I shoved the third door open and slipped inside, closing it behind me and engaging the manual locks. There were no escape pods here either, nor any spacesuits. My plans were rapidly crumbling into pieces.

Banging came from the other side of the door. "Get the pilot to open this thing!"

My heart pounded as I ran to a side control panel, hastily activating it and digging into the coding beneath the user-friendly programs. I wasn't familiar with this system or the commands needed. I could see the standard ones listed, but nothing that could lock out the pilot's controls.

I saw the pilot's command slide through the system as the locks began coming undone. I hastily tapped out the "lock door" command, which being newer, overrode the previous command and resealed it.

My gaze uneasily trailed over to the exterior bay doors, but I doubted they'd blast me into outer space—not this close to the space port, or they'd detect it. Later in the trip though...all bets were off.

Another "open" command came through, overriding mine since it was the newest. I re-entered the "lock" command to counter it. After a few more rounds of this, the airlock door was still sealed, and the pilot paused, probably looking up the commands to block anything I entered from this panel.

My mind raced; there was no way I'd be able to block the pilot for much longer. I needed something unusual, something a cheap pilot wouldn't expect or know how to counter.

Toby's trick of blowing up the light fixtures in the warehouse gave me an idea. This panel connected to this door, but so did the pilot's commands, so they were linked, somehow, somewhere.

My fingers flew as I furiously typed, digging until I found the maintenance room modules. I undid all the controls restricting power flow to the electrical circuits in this section of the spaceship.

Less than fifteen seconds later, the lights went out, leaving just three dim backup lights. Seconds later, they faded and the panel went dark, leaving me in complete darkness.

I sighed and sank to the floor. It had worked. I'd overloaded and blown the fuse and possibly flipped the breakers or even melted some wires. No electricity meant I couldn't do anything, but without electricity, the pilot wouldn't be able to undo the locking latches I'd secured. Nor could he blow me into outer space through the exterior doors.

All three escape pod bays would be powerless, as would the corridors outside. I had thought about trying to take out the engines, but major systems had secondary power cables in place.

The pilot was the only one on board who might know how to identify the problem and fix it, but ships like this were usually maintained in port, and my kidnappers could always claim they'd locked a wingnut stowaway in here when they reached their destination, if it happened to be a public port...

Very muffled voices gathered outside as I waited in the darkness. Minutes later, a faint grinding noise came from outside. I shuffled away from the door. With the power ports in the hallway dead, they'd be limited to self-powered tools.

I tried to remember if I'd seen anything in the maintenance room, but I came up blank. The tools must have been stored elsewhere. Most spaceships carried a lot in case they needed to fix something mid-voyage, and I sincerely hoped the guards weren't skilled in their usage.

More grinding sent faint tremors through the door. I hugged my knees against my chest. The airlock door was thick and designed to withstand a lot of force, but many tools were capable of drilling through metal, and if they managed to drill out some of the locking components, nothing would stop them from opening the door.

I was trapped. I closed my eyes and prayed that this ship didn't have a hull shredding machine—many did, in case they needed to rescue trapped survivors. I also hoped it didn't occur to them to send one of the guards in the skipper to fetch one of the thugs who owned such tools. Such machinery would make short work of this door. I knew of twelve or thirteen such people, but I really hoped they didn't.

All I could do was wait. If they got that door open, I was a goner. Even if they just used a strong phaser or stun shot through a hole, it would fry the delicate electronics in my pacemaker. My heart hadn't gone more than fifteen minutes without needing a reminder in over ten years. I'd never wake up, and I wasn't sure if anyone would discover the pacemaker hidden under the syntech metal ribs that scanners hated so much.

My time was ticking away just as quickly as the tools were drilling through the door.