Eventually, I stop ten feet in front of the towering alien – peering up at his stern, marble-white face.
It’s easy to forget how big Aurelians are, until you’re right in front of one of them again.
This towering officer looks to be well over seven-feet-tall. His skin is purest white, as if carved from marble – just like the skin of every one of these fearsome warriors. His incredible physique is emphasized by the customized armor he wears, and his muscles look like they were chiseled out of flawless, white stone.
The Captain’s high cheekbones give him an aristocratic, refined appearance – contributing to his haughty, arrogant demeanor. As do those cold, slate-grey eyes, which pierce me like icy daggers.
In human terms, the Captain would appear to be maybe thirty-years-old – but in the extended lifespan of an Aurelian, that means he’s lived for centuries.
I say nothing – standing defiantly in front of this towering stranger.
He breaks the silence.
“Well, well, well,” the Aurelian purrs – his lips curling into a sinister grin, revealing a mouthful of perfect, white teeth. “I was expecting a little more from the big, bad captain behind the biggest heist of the century.”
The Aurelian leans forward, and it takes every ounce of self-control not to step backward.
Leaning over me, the Captain purrs: “Aren’t you a little young for a life of crime?”
Fuck.
Heist. Life of crime. In saying those things, it’s clear we weren’t brought on board this ship by accident. Whoever this towering Aurelian is, he’s heard news about the job we’ve pulled.
To my right, I see Sawoot’s shoulders slump, as she makes the same connection I do. The best-case scenario right now is that this Aurelian Captain is somehow aligned with Aurelian Law Enforcement – and that means we’ll be thrown into the brig and hauled to Colossus, the Aurelian home world. There, we’ll face trial and punishment for what we’ve done. Our sentence will be jail for the rest of our lives.
…and that’s the best-case scenario.
I draw in a huge breath, standing tall and proud in front of this looming alien. I hope my composure will inspire my crew as I stare down the haughty, preening officer.
I demand: “What do you want from us?”
My voice sounds confident, but I’m not.
I feel naked outside my ship. Right now, I wish I was still behind the controls – darting left and right through the asteroid belt we’d hoped to find as we escaped those three Toad assault ships. The odds against the Toads were slim; but at least I felt like I was in control of our fate.
Right now, standing on this metal deck, I don’t feel like I’m in control of anything.
But my discomfort isn’t betrayed in my tone. Behind me, Sawoot perks up, hearing the confidence in my voice. I hope that same boost of confidence extends to Chris, Zander, Tom, and Felix – who, along with Theme, make up the rest of my six-person crew.
Chris and the other miners are tight knit. The four of them will often stay up late after work is done, drinking and gambling away for long hours in the endless, eternal night of space.
Theme, the newest addition to our team – and also the greenest – has taken to joining them, although he tends to come off worse during those long gambling sessions.
For a moment, the haughty Aurelian ignores my question – looking down and studying us like we’re animals at the petting zoo. Finally, he breaks his silence to say:
“That one’s pissing himself.”
The Aurelian cocks his head towards Theme. At just twenty-three-years-old, Theme might be the baby of our crew; but youth is no excuse for cowardice. I was the same age as him when I first became Captain of the Wayward Scythe, and I never looked as green around the gills as he does right now.
I didn’t choose him because of his guts. I hired Theme because he had the fastest reflexes of any technician I’d seen, manipulating ship controls and power levels like he was born in front of the inputs. I just didn’t think he’d crumble so hard under pressure.
I turn from glancing at Theme and look back to the Aurelian – just as there’s a thud behind me.
I wince, knowing that the sound came from Theme. He’s fainted from fear – and know I now look even weaker for being the Captain of such a green crew.
I fight the instinct to turn back and see if Theme is okay. Instead, I stare up at the Aurelian Captain.
“What do you want from us?” I repeat – although this time, I can’t prevent the thin edge of fear creeping into my voice.
Behind me, Chris and the other miners are shifting. I can hear the creaks of their hard, armored mining suits. I’m thankful I ordered them to leave sidearms behind. There’s just one man facing us – even if he stands more than a foot taller than any of us – and Chris and the boys might have got some foolish impulse to try and overpower him.
But I don’t like the way this Aurelian appears so nonchalant. He’s outnumbered, but clearly knows we don’t stand a chance against him. I wonder how long is would take him to order more warriors up here, or if they’re already waiting just out of sight.
If this thing gets ugly, it’s going to get ugly fast.
The Aurelian Captain licks his lips. He might be stunningly handsome, but his cocky attitude makes him repellent to me.
“I think you know exactly what I want from you,” the Aurelian says slowly, his eyes trailing down my body. I’m wearing a drab, bulky uniform – but the way this haughty alien looks at me, I might as well be wearing black, matching lingerie.
I hate that my eyes instinctively drop down, unable to meet his hungry gaze as he drinks in the sight
