Page 30 of Bounty Hunter's Match

A collective sigh of relief swept through the hall, only to be interrupted by a Poraki’s delighted exclamation. “The acoustics are even better now! Observe how the gel enhances the resonance…”

Barek’s hand on my shoulder steadied me as I rose. “You handled that well.”

“If by ‘well,’ you mean barely avoided total disaster,” I muttered, brushing foam from my dress.

“Disaster is relative,” he said, his lips twitching in the closest thing to a smile I’d seen all evening. “Though I’d recommend banning cultural exchange videos.”

“Or at least vetting them better.” I glanced around the hall. Guests were still dripping foam and water, but the mood had lightened, laughter replacing panic. Even the Sylphids seemed amused as they phased in and out of the remnants of the foam clouds.

“Next time, I’m banning pyrotechnics,” I said. “And drones.”

“Bold plan.” Barek’s hand lingered a moment longer than necessary before he stepped back. “But effective.”

A Poraki popped up beside us, their webbed fingers dripping with water. “Your teamwork was impressive! The twins’ guide suggested intimate collaboration fosters relationship development…”

“Out,” Barek growled, his deep voice vibrating through me.

The Poraki’s eyes sparkled. “Ooh, commanding! Very promising!” They scurried off before either of us could respond.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Think they’ll put this in the next cultural exchange video?”

“Undoubtedly,” Barek replied, his tone dry. “I’ll make sure to watch it.”

BAREK

"The Mondians have promised to refrain from spark-based displays of affection during official events,” Camden reported, her tone dry despite the chaos visible behind her on the grainy feed. A cleaning drone zipped past, narrowly avoiding her head as it sprayed some unidentified foam onto a scorched panel. “Although they’re interested in introducing less explosive traditions into future celebrations.”

“Noted. I switched to a secondary feed, watching her weave through drifting guests and the occasional sputtering drone. "And the Lyrikan gravity manipulations?"

"Mostly contained," she said, gripping a railing as another tremor passed through the station. A pair of drones hovered behind her, beeping in frantic patterns as one attempted to polish a perfectly clean section of floor while the other bumped into walls like a dazed insect. “The Lyrikans are now talking about combining their dance rituals with Selenthian bioluminescence displays. In a more controlled environment, of course.”

“No.”

She glancedover her shoulder as a cleaning drone sprayed a dignitary's shoes with a fine mist of disinfectant. "We’ll revisit it later." Her smile cut through the grainy resolution. "After we handle the current crisis?"

“After we?—”

The feed cut as the primary power flickered out, plunging my control room into dim red emergency lighting. I cursed, switching to backups as the station’s evac routes glowed blue through the darkness. On the screens, cleaning drones continued their chaotic attempts to restore order, misreading every burned panel and spilled drink as their top priority.

Vask surprised me by personally apologizing to the station’s engineering team. The Selenthian diplomat at his side nodded approvingly as he offered to cover all repairs.

“A most responsible gesture,” she said, her silvery skin reflecting the emergency lights. “Perhaps we could discuss proper cultural exchange protocols over dinner?”

His plumage rippled with pleasure. “I would be honored to learn more about appropriate traditions...”

They drifted toward the door, already deep in discussion about “authentic relationship development.” At least someone’s evening was going according to plan.

“Alert!” MIRA’s crystals flashed urgent patterns. “Potential client disaster. Requires investigation.”

I frowned, scanning the security feeds again. “Define disaster.”

“My logs indicate part of the Selenthian delegation’s luggage was routed through the old diplomatic section during the Gala,” MIRA replied smoothly. “Given the current environmental instabilities, the risk of contamination or data loss is significant.”

Camden appeared in the doorway, her datapad tucked under her arm. Even amid the emergency lighting and chaos,she looked poised, her dress catching every flicker of light. “Luggage? Don’t tell me they left something behind.”

MIRA’s crystals pulsed. “A bioluminescent ceremonial vessel. Highly symbolic and irreplaceable. Scans suggest it was misplaced when the Sylphids phase-shifted through the storage area.”

I sighed. “Can’t station security handle it?”

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