Page 31 of Bounty Hunter's Match

“Station security is currently preoccupied with another issue,” MIRA replied. “Given the artifact’s diplomatic importance, retrieval requires both Camden’s diplomatic clearance and Barek’s security expertise.”

Of course. Because spending more time alone with Camden in unstable environmental conditions was exactly what I needed right now.

Camden sighed, already pulling up the map on her datapad. “Fine. Let’s get this over with. MIRA, where exactly is it?”

“Section twelve of the old diplomatic wing,” MIRA said brightly. “Though current environmental fluctuations may require you to pass through section seven. I’ll guide you.”

I checked my weapon charge and motioned for Camden to follow. “Stay behind me. Just in case.”

She rolled her eyes but followed. “It’s a ceremonial vase, Barek, not a hostile bounty.”

“You’d be surprised,” I muttered, scanning the corridor ahead.

The maintenance corridors leading to section twelve were dimly lit, the emergency lights casting flickering shadows on the walls. A low hum vibrated through the floor, and every so often, the gravity shifted just enough to make Camden stumble.

“Does the station always fall apart this easily?” she muttered, catching herself on a railing as another fluctuation hit.

“Not usually,” I replied, steadying her with a hand on her waist. “But the Mondians’ fireworks routine didn’t do it any favors.”

She snorted. “Next time, we ban pyrotechnics. Or guests with reinforced boots.”

MIRA chimed in through the comms. “Please proceed with caution. Atmospheric readings in section seven suggest minor fluctuations in pressure and gravity.”

“Minor?” Camden shot me a look as we rounded a corner. “Your AI has a very loose definition of the word.”

“Starting to think she has other motives,” I muttered as another fluctuation sent us both staggering into the wall.

Camden caught herself on a support beam, her hair brushing against my shoulder. “You think MIRA’s plotting something?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Before she could respond, the floor tilted beneath us, and a flicker of light illuminated a nearby door labeled “Diplomatic Suite C-7.”

“Alert,” MIRA chimed. “Residual movement detected inside the diplomatic suite. Scans suggest the missing artifact may have been relocated there.”

Camden frowned. “Relocated? How would it end up in a guest suite?”

“Likely due to phase-shifting interference during the Gala cleanup,” MIRA replied smoothly. “Please investigate promptly. The suite’s independent power systems remain stable.”

“Convenient,” I muttered, but Camden was already moving toward the door.

The diplomatic suite was surprisingly intact compared to the rest of the station. A fold-out sleep pod took up one corner of the room, its bioluminescent trim glinting faintly.

Camden scanned the space with her datapad. “No sign of the vase.”

“Starting to think there never was one,” I muttered, crossing my arms as I scanned the shadows. “MIRA, are you sure?—”

The door slid shut with an audible hiss behind us, the lock’s red light blinking steadily. The faint hum of the environmental field grew louder, wrapping the room in an artificial stillness.

Camden spun toward the door, her datapad clutched tightly. “MIRA?”

“Minor technical difficulties,” the AI replied cheerfully. “The suite’s privacy field has engaged automatically to ensure optimal containment.”

“Containment?” Camden’s voice was sharp as she tapped at the control panel, which stubbornly refused to respond. “What exactly are we containing?”

“Yourselves,” MIRA replied sweetly. “This is the safest location for you both to... remain.”

I narrowed my eyes at the ceiling. “Define ‘safe.’”

---