In the dead of night the figure of a young man disguised in a hat and coat stumbled onto the docks and slipped into the dark shadows of pallets and shipping containers where the security cameras were blind to his presence. Hidden behind one of these stacks, the figure pulled out a penknife and made a small incision beneath his collarbone, pulling out a piece of hardware and tossing it off of the dock and into the ocean. The conversation of incoming security guards alerted the figure and he pressed his back against the pallet, holding his breath. As the pair of security guards passed by on their route they complained about the hassle of midnight loading for the early morning launches and he quickly decided this upcoming launch was his best bet.

After they had passed, the dark figure darted from shadow to shadow until he made his way to Dock 9 where the ship the guards had been discussing was being loaded. In the stacks the forklifts were pulling from, the mysterious figure found a grain palette. Climbing to the top he shoved aside sacks to make a nook for himself to hide, pulling a sack over his head so as not to be seen from above by any cameras while loading. It was a tight fit, but not the worst spot the young man had been in, and he was soon picked up by a forklift and loaded onto the ship. Once safely onboard he was able to relax marginally and found himself nodding off as his adrenaline wore off and exhaustion set it. 

A few hours later the engines roared and he could feel the shaking of the hull as the ship accelerated into the atmosphere. The pressure was dizzying as the ship struggled against the gravitational force of the planet, pressing the grain sack into his skull before finally bursting free causing him to experience weightlessness. Before he could enjoy the release of the pressure the gravity generators kicked in and dropped his grain sack back on his head and he issued a soft expletive. 

Now that he was firmly awake, the young man emerged from his hiding place to explore the vessel that had unwittingly enabled his escape. Shoving the grain sack aside, he pulled himself up to the top of the pallet and quietly climbed down. The cargo hold was dim with only emergency lights on and he made his way cautiously around stacks of palettes, unsure how many crew members might be aboard. 

As he neared the open doorway that seemed to lead to the rest of the ship, a growl of a voice stopped him dead in his tracks. “Give me one good reason not to turn around right now.” 

Bright overhead lights clicked on and after his eyes adjusted he could see the older-middle aged man sitting in the corner next to the door, an antique pistol strapped to his thigh.  Raising his hands the young man answered, “Because you’ll be prosecuted for getting me off planet either way?”