The Artful Stowaway

         Sammy looked at the soles of his shoes, worn at the sides with holes at the

bottom. The years of traveling had worked their wicked magic, but this didn't worry him

too much. He had a good pair in his suitcase, along with a good suit. He then took a

long look around the room, he had been too busy sneaking to really survey the area. He

had stowed away on ships for years, but because of regulations, trying to get abroad

without being killed was becoming near impossible. "Oh screw it, Sammy thought, "I've

been fine in the past and I'll be fine now." He got up and paced the room, looking at the

metal crates with labels on them. "Plastic?" He thought reading one of the labels, "well,

glad to see that even out in the outreach of space, Plastic is still king." He had a habit of

being sarcastic, even if there was no one else to hear. He looked out a small window,

just to the left of him, he stood and stared for a second. As far as he could see was the

vast endless space, you could stare forever and still not grasp the full magnitude, but for

Sammy, it was yesterday's news. He walked back over to his suitcase and opened it up,

He shifted past different items, a slightly out-of-fashion suit, a pair of shoes, and most

importantly the merchandise. What he was looking for was a book, about the size of

his hand, it was basically the equivalent of a dime novel. "The misadventures of Tom

and His Long Tong" the cover said. "God this book is shit," Sammy said, "But it's better

than nothing." He cracked it open and scanned the pages, but what was the point? He

had already read it cover to cover, he could recite the thing with one hand tied behind

his ear. But still, he reads " Thomas took his long tong and look over the stone wall,

when suddenly." Before he could read on he heard a sound, like a trained soldier he

quickly stowed it and grabbed his case, and hid in a dark corner behind a box. Two men

came downstairs with harsh shadows dancing around their faces. Sammy was

practically inanimate as he waited and listened to the footsteps as they echoed around

the room. They looked around, eyeing each box. "Why the hell do we always have to

check the cargo," one said to the other. "Because, that's our job," he replied, "besides

you're the one who wanted to join up, so you've got no one to blame but yourself."

"Well, they made it seem like it would be a good lot of fun." This went on for several

minutes as they inspected. Meanwhile, Sammy was slowly creeping across the room to

get out of site. He kept in the shadows, moving slowly but steadily across the room,

then one of his pant legs got caught on a distant piece of metal. Before he knew it, he

had fallen on his face, right onto a grate, as well as ripping a line down his pant leg.

This, along with the fall, culminated in a loud noise that was a combination of tearing

cloth and crashing metal. Well, that was it, there laid Sammy, face down, with two men

standing over him. The silence after the crash lasted a few seconds, Sammy himself

was stunned into inactivity. One of the men took out their flashlight and shined it down

at Sammy. "Shit, it's a stowaway."

         Before he knew it, Sammy was dragged up the stairs and into a corridor, with the

two men talking. "What do you think we'll do with him, Frank?" "Well Don, we'll see what

the captain says." As this happened many thoughts flashed through Sammy's head.

"How could I be so stupid, how will I get to Tanson now?" This was quickly broken up

with him being thrown on the ground, he looked up to see the Captain. He had worn, but

well-oiled boots, his pants were black with dirt and dust evenly spread over them from

years of wear. He had a light grey coat over a white spotted shirt with the only thing to

indicate that he was in fact the captain was the faded gold strip on his sleeves. His face

was riddled with wrinkles from years of hard living, he wore a little mustache and

goatee, both looked slightly uneven. His hair was black with little bits of gray and white

littered throughout it. He looked down at Sammy, with a look of annoyance more than

anger. "You got a lot of balls to get past the safety locks on the cargo hold, one false

move could have fired you." "Don, what was he doing down there?" "I don't know sir,"

He replied,"we heard a crash and there he was laying on a grate." The captain looked

back at Sammy, who still had a shallow imprint of the grate across his face. "So, what's

your business stowing away on my ship?" Sammy got to his feet with a little hesitation

at first, but quickly get the confidence to speak. "Well I'm glad I'm finally getting a

chance to actually talk," he said with an air of contempt. "Well, if you must know, I'm a

traveling salesman, I'm trying to make my way over to Tanson, just a couple of days

away from the port I was at." "I've heard there are some very interesting people there

and I thought it would be lucrative." "Well," said the captain,"what do you sell?" "Get me

my suitcase and I'll show you" Sammy replied with a hint of fake enthusiasm. At that

very moment, Frank stepped forward and present Sammy's suitcase, the same ol'worn

out thing. "Why did you grab that," said Don. "I thought it might be a bomb," Frank

replied. "So, you brought it with you!?" Don said with a bewildered look. "Stop it," The

captain said in a firm tone,"just open it." Frank slowly lifted the latch with a small

creaking sound. He lift the top of the case and was greeted with strange different

objects. "Whats this shit?" He said with a slit smirk on his face. "Thats my merchandise"

Sammy shot back a bit defensively. "Let me see it," the captain

said, Frank, handed it over with a playful look on his face. The captain gave him the

look, and Frank quickly stowed his expression. The captain looked into the case,

everything was sectioned into different compartments. In one were old digital watches,

in another were a hand full of small pocket knives, and in another were cheap little toys.

"So, this is the type of stuff you sell," said the captain in a bemused way. "Oh yes,"

Sammy replied, "some of the best that money can buy." The captain reached in and

pulled out a little green man with a tag that said "Big Eyed Men From Venus." "Big Eyed

Men From Venus, don't you think thats a bit racist?" He said with a hint of disgust. "Oh I

don't care, thats one of my best sellers." Sammy replied. The captain side-eyed him, but

then returned to inspecting the case some more. After a minute of looking through some

more cheap crap, he closed the case and sat it down behind him, "so, you're a cheap

swindler," the captain said with a slit smirk. "Now I wouldn't say that," Sammy, "think of

me as a humble salesman, who doesn't exactly have the pick of merchandise." The

captain closed the case, "well, regardless of which, you're and we need to deal with

you." He sat the case down and put his finger to his chin. "Lets see, we could throw you

out the airlock," he said with a bemused look. Sammy had a slightly shocked look. He

wouldn't, would he? The captain continued, "Nah, wouldn't look good on my record,

we'll just lock up in one of the empty quarters." "What about the case?" Asked Don. "Let

him keep it," the captain with a laugh, "he can't do much with it." With that, Don picked

up the case, and Frank took Sammy by the arm. "Come on you ol' sleaze peddler,"

Frank laughed as he guided Sammy down the hall.

         As Sammy looked around he got a better view of the ship. "Small ship you've got

here, eh," he said with a smirk. He hadn't got a good glimpse when he snuck aboard. "I

might be," said Don,"But its a, well, its good enough." They walked down a small

corridor of quarters, and Sammy saw each labeled room. "Captain Brice Morgen," he

read in his head," What a fittingly unfitting name." He saw two more, one labeled Frank

Thomas and the other Don Reardon. "What kinda name is Reardon?" Sammy

questioned, Frank snickered a bit. Don was quick to retort, "a good one, besides it can't

be any better than yours." "What, Sammel Westion?" countered, " its a fine name." Don

looked away with an annoyed look. Before Sammy could reply he found that they had

made it to the empty quarters. "Alright," Don said,"stay here, if you're good we'll bring

you some food." "Just not very good food," Frank added. And before he knew it, Sammy

was thrown in with the door locked behind him. He got up and dusted himself off, "well,

at least the bastards let me keep my case." He looked around the room, the light were

flickering every few seconds or so, there were small cracks in the wall, and the floor

looked to have some form of mold. "Well glad to see they like to keep the place clean."

He sat down against the wall and stared out into space. Thoughts flew through his

head, "Why do I do this to myself?" "Why I'm still risking my life like this?" "How long can

I maintain?"

         Sammy sat there, drifting in and out of sleep. Then the opened, Don was there

with a few scraps of food. "So, you've come to feed to the prisoner, eh," Sammy said

with a tinge of spite. "Look, I don't care that you snuck on," Don Insicted, "I'm just as

much in for the long haul as you are." Don sat the plate, "How did you end up on a ship

like this?" Sammy asked, letting his guard of snideness down. "Frank talked me into it,"

Don replied, "He said it would be a load of fun, but so far I've regretted every minute."

"Whats Frank's deal anyway?" Sammy asked. "Na, he's a good guy," Don said "He can

just be careless sometimes." "I guess thats how some people make it through life."

Sammy reached for the scraps of meat and started to help himself. "Why do you travel

like this?" Don asked Sammy. Sammy wolfed down the meat slice, "well, I don't really

know, I've been doing it for so long, I think its the only way I know how to live." Don

stared as Sammy ate the last of the food, then he headed for the door. "Thanks, Don,"

Sammy said. "Yeah" was his only reply, and with that, the door closed and all was silent.

         BAM! Sammy woke up, the whole room was shaking, and the lights were

knocked out with only a red emergency. He jumped up and ran to the door, only to still

be locked. "SHIT!" He said to himself, "HELP!, HELP!" No reply, no help. "Well this is it,"

he said frantically looking around the room, "all these years and I'm going to fucking die

in a shitty room." He ran around the room looking for any hint of a way out, more and

more desperate. But before he became desperate enough to claw the door like a cat,

the door opened. It was Don, "come on," he screamed, Sammy ran for the door like his

life depended on it, mostly because it did. They ran down the hall and to the left, where

the control room was. "Why did you release me?" Sammy asked. "Nobody deserves to

die alone," Don replied, "besides, we might need your help." They arrived at the control,

everything was a mess. The captain was lying on the ground, dead, burned. Sammy

was horrified, he could barely move an inch, he was shaken. He looked at the screen of

the monitor, the ship was crashing, into a planet. Don grabbed him by the arm, "do you

know how to pilot a ship?" "Well, I use to pilot shuttles, but nothing like this," Sammy replied

with a worried look. "That's good enough for me!" Don replied, grabbing Sammy and

putting him on the chair. Sammy looked down, while they looked slightly foreign, the

memories started slowly returning. The main control was a pilot yolk, the controls for

thrust, and so on. Sammy quickly sized up the situation. "The only way I'll be able to

save us is by trying to land it," Sammy said. "Are you sure?" Don asked, "at this altitude

and speed we could burn up in the atmosphere." Sammy paushed, looking at the

monitor, thinking of any other way. "No," he said with a sense of confidence,

"this is the only way.” The ship scream and it moaned in anguish as it

entered the atmosphere. The outer hull started heating up, Sammy tried his best to

angle to make it through the atmosphere, but the little he did still didn't help. The hull

started collapsing as they enter the lower atmosphere, Don strapped himself down and

Sammy tried his best to do anything to cushion the crash. The ship was shaking and

twisting, the lights were flashing, and sparks and fire were flying. Sammy struggle to

keep the ship together, The hull was being ripped apart. Then anything went black.

         The clean-up took some time, the wreckage spanned about two miles or so.

Metal and debris littered the land, with little sign that this was originally a ship. The

engines were smashed to hell, the hull was shredded, and there were no signs of

Survivors. The scavengers went through it with little care, they had seen many like it

before, and theres really nothing any of them could say, but the one odd thing they

found was a curious suitcase.