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The species offers ‘protection’, sure – but they also charge a hefty fee for it, and their taxation crushes all of us.

Aurelians only think of themselves, always. They don’t understand that the taxes they charge to pay for their warriors’ lavish mansions and harems of beautiful women have to come from somewhere – and on our world, they came from the scraps of money that the human residents relied on to put a roof over their heads and food on the table.

Aurelians only ever think of their own needs first – whattheywant…

…and it’s very clear that Aelon wantsme.

I let myself imagine it, if only for a moment. For all his sins, Captain Aelon is devilishly handsome, even by the gorgeous standards of Aurelians. There’s a certainty to him, too – a confidence and assurance that draws me to him in the same way that his arrogance pushes me away.

I know he merely wants me to be his latest conquest. He just wants me to whimper and moan his name as he claims me as his own – to be discarded when he’s done.

But rather than feel daunted or afraid of this, I suddenly realize that it might offer me an opportunity.

I look up at Captain Aelon and steel myself.

“The Empire wantsme,” I nod, “but they don’t know the names or identities of my crew. If you turn me in, you could tell that my crew died – say that they were blown to dust during our capture.”

I lean towards him, widening my eyes in what I hope is an alluring and submissive gesture.

I murmur: “Please.”

Aelon snorts, leaning forward to meet me halfway across the table that separates us.

“You’renegotiating, Tasha – when you should bebegging.”

Oh, fuck.

My eyes instantly drop down again, staring at the table. I can’t get a read on this Captain – I don’t know how best to manipulate him with my feminine wiles; if such a ploy would even work.

“Tasha. That’s what the arrest warrant said. Is that yourrealname?”

I nod. “It is. Tasha.”

“Well,CaptainTasha,” Aelon’s voice is dry and mocking, “you’re seemsoeager to spend your life in a jail cell.” He pauses. “Are you?”

I take a deep breath.

My heart is pounding, the blood rushing through my veins. This is a life or death situation, just like when the Toad were chasing the Wayward Scythe with their las-cannons blasting. I have to play this just right, and reap whatever advantage I can from it.

I raise my eyes.

“By law, youmustturn me in – I know you don’t have a choice.”

I might sound contrite, but in truth I’m trying to bait him. If my read on Captain Aelon is even remotely accurate, I’m hoping I can push the buttons of his arrogance by reminding him of what he’s told hecan’tdo. Aurelians, so I’ve heard, don’t like to hear the word ‘no.’

“No.”

Aelon’s single utterance refutes my assumption.

“No – Idohave a choice.” He leans back in his seat, lips curling. “By law, I must turn you in, but you assume I follow the law.”

Oh, Gods – does that mean this is a Rogue ship after all?

Is that a good or bad thing?

I try to keep my voice from stammering:

“Captain Aelon. Ineedto protect my crew – no matter what.” Since my appeal to the law didn’t work, I try an appeal to his humanity – or whatever Aurelians have that resembles humanity.