Page 2 of Bounty Hunter's Match

“Threatening? No, no.” His tone shifted to something artificially smooth. “Simply expressing concern for station safety. It would be terrible if something went wrong at your Valentine’s Gala. Such a prestigious event, so many important guests...”

“I believe we’re done here.” I gestured to the door. “Please leave.”

Above his head, I caught Risa starting another recording. Her sister was already messaging someone - probably adding to their extensive network of gossip and information. Good. The twins’ stream would ensure everyone knew exactly who was being unreasonable.

And if his plumage happened to look particularly pompous from their ceiling-height angle? Well, that was just good cinematography.

The twins’ feed caught the exact moment he tried to turn dramatically and got his elaborate head feathers caught in my office door. It took three of his assistants to untangle him.

I sagged against my desk as Sarith Vask cleared the door, professional smile dropping. “MIRA, how bad?”

“Stream numbers are excellent,” MIRA’s crystals formed a rising graph. “The twins’ footage is trending across three sectors. Particularly the moment his plumage got stuck in the door seal.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Your rejection of his... proposal... has been viewed by approximately sixty-eight percent of the station’s upper society,” MIRA’s tone grew careful. “Including several prominent merchant houses.”

“Perfect.” I rubbed my temples. “Just perfect.”

“Actually,” Risa’s voice echoed faintly from above, “it really is! We’re getting comms from at least twelve other houses who’ve wanted to see someone stand up to-”

A muffled thump and whispered argument suggested Rina had found her sister’s hiding spot.

“Camden?” MIRA’s crystals shifted to a gentle blue. “Captain Larthul is requesting immediate access. She seems... concerned.”

“About Vask?”

“About, and I quote, ‘reports of ritualistic organ harvesting planned for the Valentine’s Gala.’“

I blinked. “What?”

The door slid open to reveal Larthul’s imposing Mondian frame, her massive form ducking to enter. The station’s head of security was clutching a datapad covered in what appeared to be anatomical diagrams of various species’ hearts.

“Bishop,” she nodded gravely. “We need to discuss these Earth customs you’re introducing to the station. Specifically, this ‘giving of hearts’ tradition.”

From somewhere above us came poorly suppressed giggles.

“The cultural affairs office is receiving concerned inquiries,” Larthul continued, shooting a look at the ceiling. “Apparently, there are rumors that accepting a ‘Valentine’ requires a binding blood oath and the exchange of vital organs?”

“That’s not-” I started.

“While several Vinduthi houses have expressed interest,” she talked over me, “the Merchant’s Coalition is demanding safety guarantees. And the Sylphid delegation is asking if synthetic organs are acceptable substitutes given their... ethereal nature.”

The twins lost their battle with composure. Risa tumbled from her hiding spot, caught herself mid-air in a graceful flip, and landed next to her sister who had apparently emerged specifically to double over laughing.

“We may have posted some historical research,” Rina managed between giggles. “About ancient Earth fertility rites and symbolic sacrifices...”

“And candy hearts!” Risa added. “Though nobody believes humans actually ate hearts made of pure sugar. We tried to explain-”

“Bishop.” Larthul’s expression was a masterpiece of professional concern. “Your Gala guest list includes three planetary governors, a Fanaith trade delegation, and half the sector’s merchant houses. I need to know exactly how many medical teams to have on standby for this ritual.”

I caught MIRA’s crystals forming the distinct pattern that meant she was trying not to laugh. Somehow, I kept my face straight.

“Captain,” I said carefully, “Let’s have a conversation about metaphors, paper hearts, and why humans should never be allowed to name their holidays...”

“So no actual hearts will be exchanged?” Larthul confirmed, updating her notes.

“Just paper ones. And maybe some chocolates, assuming we can find any that are universally non-toxic.” I paused. “Though given the twins’ research methods, maybe we should specify ‘no actual organs’ in the invitation...”

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