Page 12 of Bound to the Bounty Hunter

I crawled into the hatch, the sticky paste making every movement feel like I was pulling free from quicksand. Behind me, I heard Arkon grunt and curse as he squeezed his large frame through the opening.

“Everything alright back there?” I called over my shoulder.

“Just... peachy,” he growled.

As we inched our way through the space, I had to laugh at the absurdity of our situation. Here we were, a renowned xenobotanist and a fearsome Vinduthi bounty hunter, covered in smelly bug dust and squirming through a tiny metal tube.

“I’m glad you find this amusing,” Arkon grumbled.

“Oh, come on,” I said, still giggling. “You have to admit, it’s a little funny.”

He was quiet, then I heard a low chuckle. “I suppose it is. But if anyone hears about this...”

“I know, I know. You’ll deny it to your dying breath.”

We continued on, the close quarters and shared laughter creating an unexpected intimacy between us. Despite the discomfort and the danger that lay ahead, I felt a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the jungle heat.

ARKON

Icrouched by the final gateway of the service hatch, my fingers deftly working the simple security system. The lock clicked open, and I eased the hatch up, revealing a larger space below.

“All clear,” I whispered to Samira.

She nodded, moving closer. I gripped her waist to help her down, savoring the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric. My hands lingered longer than necessary, and I caught a slight catch in her breath.

Once inside, we surveyed our surroundings. The station’s layout was compact and efficient - clearly designed for minimal sentient presence. Banks of computers and monitoring equipment lined the walls, their screens casting a soft blue glow over the metallic surfaces.

“Fascinating,” Samira murmured, her eyes darting from console to console. “See how everything’s automated? It’s set up so a maintenance crew only needs to stop by periodically.”

I grunted in agreement, more focused on securing the area. My gaze settled on a small unit tucked in the corner. “What’s that?”

Samira followed my line of sight. “Decontamination chamber, I’d guess. For the crews when they visit.”

The realization hit us both simultaneously.

“The dust paste,” I said.

Samira nodded. “We need to clean up before touching anything.”

We approached the unit, and I frowned. It was barely large enough for one person, let alone my Vinduthi frame.

“You first,” Samira said, a slight quirk to her lips. “I’m not sure you’ll fit otherwise.”

I huffed but complied, squeezing into the cramped space. As the decontamination cycle began, I caught Samira averting her eyes... mostly. The occasional furtive glance in my direction sent an unexpected thrill through me.

When I emerged, cleansed of the insect dust, Samira took her turn. Now it was my struggle to keep my gaze averted. The soft hiss of the decontamination mist filled the air, along with Samira’s quiet gasps as the cool spray hit her skin.

My imagination ran wild, picturing water droplets trailing down her curves. I clenched my fists, willing myself to focus on anything else.

“Arkon?” Samira’s voice snapped me back to reality. “I need some help.”

I turned to find her half-out of the chamber, twisting awkwardly. “There’s a spot on my back I can’t reach. Could you...?”

My mouth went dry. “Of course.”

I moved closer, aware of every inch between us. Samira’s damp skin glistened in the low light. I reached out, my gray hand a stark contrast against her warm brown tone. As I helped work the remaining paste from a hard-to-reach spot between her shoulder blades, Samira let out a soft sigh.

The sound sent a jolt straight through me. Our eyes met, both of us feeling the possibility in the air.

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