This guy wants to have a series.
“Fine,” said Rex as he turned back. “You’re right. I’m the biggest hard case you can see, so I’m the one in charge. If that’s the way things are up here now, then that’s how it is. So what orders should I be giving, Miss Tabetha?”
Tabetha blinked. “Excuse me?” She hastily added, “Sorry. Excuse me, Hey You?”
“You were sitting there staring at nothing for a half hour,” Rex said. “A woman does that, she’s either not thinking about anything at all, or she’s thinking really hard about one thing in particular. From the way the others are looking at you, I’m guessing you don’t have a name for woolgathering. So what’s your plan? Or were you still chewing on it?”
Tabetha scowled at him, but the bastard (the tall, well-favored bastard, a treacherous voice in her head said) had her pegged; she was prideful of her wits, dammit, and she had been brooding about the place where the slavers had been dragging them. But since the man had asked…
Rex, perhaps, wishes to be part of a rather classic trope .. I would *suggest* keeping him to short, pithy, radio-serial-length chunks ..
.
.. and I will *hope* for lots of such chunks …
.
(Cheshire grin)