You fascinate me, human.
This is not something that would make sense to most of my species; we VUX tend to find other sapient races only just bearable at best and, particularly in the case of humans, utterly repulsive at worst.
But in your ugliness I can see a strange sort of beauty. How lucky am I, how favored by whatever dieties watch over my kind, to be able to see in humanity what others cannot.
I am not the most religious of VUX, but I do find interacting with the oddities of the universe an oddly spiritual experience. Such variety... so many deviations from the VUX ideal. Some of my kind theoreticize that we evolved from spores seeded throughout the galaxies by those ever-mysterious Precursors. If so, then perhaps our differences are part of some great design on the part of the Precursors, and perhaps we ought to study one another more closely instead of simply turning our backs (or our weapons) on those whose appearances seem distasteful.
But now I turn away from the matter at hand. I suppose this is understandable; it is not a pleasant duty for me, and doubtless it is even less so for you, now that we have found your ship.
Such a small thing, with such pitiful armaments... doubtless a scout, meant to slip past our lines of defense without being detected. A pity I happened to be passing so close by, is it not?
You try to bargain with me for your safe passage home. You even offer yourself in exchange for the safety of your crew! How very noble of you, human.
But it is all in vain, and we both know it. I can see that you are afraid, and are trying to hide it. You are so young... but then, wars are always fought by the young, aren't they. Fresh out of training, I'd wager, and sent out on a most dangerous mission.
Did you consider yourself immortal? I can't say I blame you. I felt the same way, when I was a new recruit. I was fortunate enough to live for long enough to make my way up the ranks, but you will not be so lucky.
I can afford to delay for a bit longer, human. Your reactions are so... fascinating.
I can almost see the gears in your head turning as you try to find a way to get yourself, your crew, and your little scout-ship out of here intact.
Unfortunately, I am under orders to take no prisoners... at least not from your kind. A pity, that.
I fear I must break off communications now. To wait any longer merely puts off the inevitable, and it seems cruel to allow you to torture yourself with hope.
Don't worry... it will be over before you know what hit you.