Page 9 of Alien Captain's Prisoner

My crew and I nearlydiedto secure those Orbs – and we practically delivered them into this Captain’s cargo bay for him. The only thing missing is wrapping paper and a bow.

“Twenty-five Orbs,” Aelon counts them as they’re carried past. “Impressive – but I think that’s short.”

His slate-grey eyes turn to me.

“The official report says you stole one more.” The Captain leans forward menacingly. “Where is it?”

Dammit!

I’d separated a single Orb from the main stash, in case of this exact situation. I’dhopedthat twenty-five mid-sized Orbs would be enough to blind whoever might attempt to steal our cargo – so they didn’t go looking for any more.

But, as is typical for their officious species, the Aurelians apparently had good intel about the exact number of Orbs we’d managed to steal – and any goodwill I’d gained by pointing Captain Aelon in the direction of our hidden storage compartment has now gone.

I sigh.

“I put the last one under my bed.”

That makes Aelon laugh. He nods, and two of his soldiers head back into the Wayward Scythe. A moment later, sure enough, they emerge with the last Orb.

Rather than angry at my deception, Captain Aelon actually appears entertained.

He wags a scolding finger at me.

“Naughty, naughty. Trying to hide secrets from me? That’snota good start to our relationship.”

My eyes narrow. This man captured my ship, stole my cargo – and now he’s cracking jokes?

But there’s a serious tone to his voice when he continues:

“There’ll be nothing else hidden from me while you’re on my ship, understood?”

I just glare at him.

If the Aurelian is upset, he doesn’t show it. In fact, the towering alien smiles – purring:

“I’m Captain Aelon – and when you’re aboard The Instigator, you’remine.” He takes a menacing step forward. “Mine, understood?”

His voice turns hard at those last words, his smile disappearing and replaced with an authoritative snarl. I immediately get the impression that Aelon runs a tight ship – which is necessary, I suppose, when you’re commanding hundreds of testosterone-fueled warriors always aching for a fight.

I swallow hard. I’m powerless and terrified, but don’t want to kowtow to this Aurelian.

“We understand,” pipes up Sawoot.

I turn and glare at her, and she shrugs her shoulders apologetically. Sawoot knows it rankles me to submit so easily, but she wants to avoid confrontation. Sawoot is a great first mate, and this isn’t the first time she’s stepped into an awkward situation and helped me keep my pride from writing checks my ass isn’t prepared to cash.

“Sir!” Another soldier appears. “We’re receiving a transmission from the Toads.”

In between trips in and out of my ship, securing every last one of our stolen Orbs, one of Aelon’s soldiers had apparently managed to find time to keep an eye on transmissions.

“Toads. Fucking scum.” Aelon shakes his head. “Very well, I’ll accept the transmission.”

A holographic projection appears – rippling to life between Captain Aelon and my crew.

Three-dimensional, life-sized Toads appear, as if they’re right there in the loading bay with us. If it wasn’t for the flickering, translucent effect of the holo-projection, you’d almost think you’re staring at the authentic article.

As it happens, this is as close as I’d ever intend to get to a Toad. They’re the second most disgusting creatures in the universe. They waddle between six and seven feet high, almost as tall as Aurelians, but that’s where the similarity ends. Where Aurelians are chiseled like the statues of ancient Greek Gods, Toads are bloated, vile, disgusting creatures.

But you’d be foolish to discount the threat they pose, despite their massive bellies and thick, warty skin. Beneath that glistening sheen is hundreds of pounds of solid muscle.

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