Phaerakaus knew better than to linger on the unanswered caveats of their conversation, her arms moving to tighten ever so slightly around Reginald's torso as her question concerning imprisonment was overlooked. Her abductor was cordial, true, but he could only retain so much subtlety with someone as tactless as the woman he now contained. By diplomatic standards, Phae hardly constituted as educated - and her experiences were mostly of Chandaar, Nar Shaddaa, Maro IV, and Tran Beccan colonies; places where etiquette wasn't a priority to the natives. Even with Cieg, there had been no structure or discipline to her daily regiment, aside from her word that she would show up. The expectations had been low (and remained low) because a wayward Auroun so far from their home sector knew only to mimic their environment, and Phae had grown up hard and fast.<br/><br/>Her bravado was a learned behavior, sure, but from a time too long ago to easily resist playing into.<br/><br/>Through batting lashes of spiderweb thinness, her gaze gave Clovis one final evaluation in the form of a sweeping assessment, and then she tipped her chin to encourage the Commodore into action. "I don't buy the act," She admitted gently, resisting the urge to glance toward the Skipper for a second or third time, though swallowing the desire certainly wouldn't remove it from her mind. Phae simply refused to show her weakness when met with foreign strength. This sort of behavior was akin to what she expected in cantinas and clubs along the outer fringes, places where law and loyalty to the empire began resembling archaic notions rather than a galactic standard. Those were the places Phae loved the most, after all. Dark alleyways and alcoves where unsuspecting victims of all variety were undoubtedly propositioned. To be taken, or to take - she thought fondly of past encounters because the Auroun knew there was no greater thrill than being chased.<br/><br/>Even now, with the prospect of incarceration looming, Phae couldn't completely squash her satisfaction. If her legs were working, she could run. If her powers were working, she could flee. The woman had no intention of being a prisoner to the Empire, regardless how attractive her current company may have been. Of course, now that she was under a self-imposed ban on looking back to her confiscated ship, Phae was left to inspect Jack and his physique. Her sights drifted from his jawline to his throat, settling on the minute pulse thrumming between cords of muscle, and though she appreciated the pattern of his heartbeats, she imagined he was conditioned to look and act the way he did. All that training she had never received was now staring at her through the male's eyes, his stature proud to match the crisp appearance of his flight suit.<br/><br/>It wasn't any wonder why Phae might feel smitten. A clean-cut figure of authority was staring her down like she was his favorite flavor of candy. An almost dismissive smirk crossed her lips as she realized she<i>would be</i>Jack's favorite flavor if they ever got that far together. A healthy ego, perhaps, or maybe it had something to do with her race and their physiology. Phae wasn't stupid, afterall, and she understood the fundamental differences between herself and a human female. How had her last employer worded it?<i>Oh, right-</i>Auroun were "built to fuck". Some races received attributes and abilities that seemed less lewd, but the goal of these evolutionary improvements was to promote survival and to ensure healthy procreation among members of the same species. Roth Khaanian skin becomes gem-like as they mature, Rasmodians come in twin pairs like a biological buddy system, and Auroun women possessed naturally lowered inhibitions regarding partners and intercourse when they reached their estrus cycle.<br/><br/>Fortunately, Phae doubted how knowledgeable the Commodore was concerning her species and their peculiarities, and even if she was detained for an extended period of time, there were more outlets than his cock to seek out. At least, she convinced herself of this despite letting her thoughts linger on just how impressive her company's length and girth were. Did he enjoy being teased? Phae licked her lips and gave her lashes a few steady bats before allowing her inquiries to dwell on less polite topics. There was silence between herself and Jack, and in this, she filled her mind with difficult positions and intense demands. His hands seemed strong, she ventured as her sights darted from the male's fingers to his eyes, and his body held the edge of authority she always found herself attracted to. Phae made mental bets on how Jack might react to seeing her arching against the mattress, thighs spread and cunt displayed between her teasing fingers.<br/><br/>She was almost certain he would stroke his cock to the sight of her body on display, just before he used her.<br/><br/>Abruptly, she shivered and cleared her throat, allowing the lust in the forefront of her mind to dissipate for the time being. "We haven't been properly introduced," or introduced at all as far as she could recall, given she had been more interested in hitting the road than in staying with the handsome Empire lackey. Now, she accepted wanting to fuck Jack senseless - it was only natural, given what she was - but even that required a name. Well, not really- but Phae liked having a name to attach to a memory. Whether this memory was completely by the books or not, she wasn't sure she cared. Her priorities still focused on Clovis, Reginald, her freedom, and her appetites (though not necessarily in that order). "I'm Phae... Phaerakaus Tamorae. I was Cieg's apprentice for a year or so, but he and I recently had a falling out." Or, as Phae reminded herself, she had gotten tired of his bullshit and ditched him - but semantics rarely mattered in her present circumstances.<br/><br/>"Am I allowed to know your name and rank?" The latter was less important, but still valuable information to be trusted with. She wondered if she<i>could</i>be trusted with something so valuable, but knowing about a pilot of this side of the galaxy wasn't exactly sellable secrets. Knowing herself, she could just as easily forget what was said and be left grasping at a vague recollection of the events. Something like 'I was taken into an Empire ship, and they worked on my ship, and there was this Imperial soldier- he fucked me for two days, and he was a pilot, I think?' or whatever other shortened rendition was easiest to boast about. She cleared her mind to better grasp his prior offers.<br/><br/>"Well, a tour seems appropriate. At any rate, I'm exhausted and..." She gave Reginald a sort of jingle in her arms to indicate she wanted to put him down sooner rather than later, "You know, carrying a cat- Can we do a quick tour and then you can show me where you'd like me to stay while you check out my ship?" The offer to further tweak the design of Clovis to be more accommodating was tempting, but Phae didn't want to owe the Empire anything, and the repairs were more like reparations for their attack than anything she deserved to hoof the bill on. Anything else would be pushing her luck, and inevitably, putting her in a predicament where they would be able to argue expenses and fines and fees of every sort. There might even have been a tax for this stretch of space - she honestly didn't know what potential con might be run on her if she wasn't careful.<br/><br/>"Will I need to speak with one of your, uh...<i>Hm.</i>I'm not sure what they would be... Superiors, maybe? I understand you're a liaison, but I imagine there's a chain of command for this sort of thing."