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Elbows resting on her bent knees, Morgan raised her weary head when the hum of the ship changed.

She scanned the cargo hold and frowned at the condition of her fellow hostages.

Jim, the big guy Faith had pointed out on Morgan’s first day, leaned bare-chested against the wall.

His long legs stretched in front of him with his shirt wrapped tightly around his right knee.

One of the orange aliens—Durelians she now knew—had struck the man with a shock stick when he fought to keep them from taking a woman from the cargo hold two days ago and his limb twisted wrong when he fell.

Everyone had lost weight. Their captors mostly left the humans alone.

A disgusting gruel showed up once a day as a meal, although water flowed easily from dispensers around the space.

Every couple weeks a weird green light slowly swept the space for several minutes leaving the faint smell of ozone in its wake.

She believed it probably cleansed them in some fashion, otherwise they would smell even ranker than they already did after almost four months of this unrelenting hell.

They learned the gray aliens were called Frezzians, but a Durelian named Krutus captained the vessel.

He’d showed up after a group of their captors removed Lisa from their prison and returned her battered, naked body.

With his claws, Krutus sliced the ringleader of the group until he bled to death while coldly explaining the loss of profit of a slave was unacceptable.

He then shot the other perpetrators with a high-tech weapon.

That was about three months ago. Unless someone fed Lisa or made her drink water, she remained quiet and still, huddled in Morgan’s hoodie and a large scarf wrapped around her waist that another woman gave her to cover her nudity.

She flinched when someone came near her.

Poor Lisa. She hasn’t uttered a word and she’s retreated so far into her head that I don’t think she’ll ever come back.

Her ponytail holder long gone, Morgan pushed her lank hair from her face.

Despite Krutus’ punishment of the first group, two others had pulled women from the humans to rape them.

The captain’s reaction remained the same, reducing the number of his crew each time.

Morgan turned her head to look at the second victim, Bree, comforting Evelyn, who was the one Jim tried to save.

Fortunately, the dozen human men didn’t try to force themselves on the women, instead they behaved respectfully.

I wonder if they would’ve acted differently if Krutus supported his crew.

Four months without sex can feel like a long time for some.

Not even a little concerned about her cynicism, Morgan focused on what the change in the ship’s sounds meant for them. Her hands shook. Are we getting close to our destination? Will we be sold? Will the rest of us be raped?

“I think shit’s gonna get even more real soon, sweetie.” Faith wrapped her hands over Morgan’s, warming them.

Morgan blew out a long breath at her friend’s quiet words.

“I know.”

“Do what you can to survive. Humans are stronger than these fucktards believe. And we have a collective history of rebelling against injustice.”

Morgan flashed a tired grin.

“I don’t know why it continues to surprise me that while you look like a sweet grandmother, you have the mouth of a drunken sailor.”

Faith patted her unruly hair and tilted her head.

“A particular talent I’ve cultivated over the years.”

Softly, Morgan said, “Thank you. I’m not sure I would have made it this far without you.”

Faith’s mouth firmed.

“Someone who grew up fatherless, dropped out of college to care for her mother while she fought cancer, then choosing exotic dance to pay for her education as quickly as possible and graduating with honors after her mother’s death is already a survivor.

Do not doubt you have what it takes, Morgan.

You could’ve broken long before now with everything you’ve dealt with and you haven’t. You won’t now. Trust yourself.”

“I bet you are a great advocate as a social worker.”

Eyes sad, Faith’s lips tipped up.

“I like to think so. I worry about the kids I was helping. Is my disappearance going to set them back?”

“You have a huge, giving heart. That’s what those kids will remember.”

Faith bumped her shoulder against Morgan’s.

“You’re good for my ego, sweetie.”

They sat in silence for long minutes as the green light appeared and did its thing.

“We’re probably going to be separated, aren’t we?”

A dozen armed aliens entering their prison interrupted Faith’s response.

Two Frezzians dumped containers on the floor. Sheer white material overflowed from the boxes.

“Everyone strip and put on these clothes,” a Durelian ordered. He waved his weapon at the two humans closest to the boxes. Distribute it to the other slaves.”

Cautiously, Moe and Renee pulled tunics from the first container and silently handed them to those around them people passed them back.

Morgan couldn’t be sure who spoke but heard, “Oh, fuck, no.” Whispers and grumbling filled the space as everyone realized the clothing would leave nothing to the imagination.

When no one moved, shock collars activated and people screamed.

When Morgan could move again, she crunched the material in her fingers and looked at Faith who pulled her shirt over her head and slowly unclasped her bra. Staring at each other for courage, they stripped and tugged the tunics over their heads.

“Survive,” Faith whispered under her breath and Morgan squared her shoulders.

Survive.