Page 1 of Bounty Hunter's Match

CAMDEN

“Flare stabilizers failing in three... two...” MIRA’s crystalline form flashed urgent patterns across my office walls.

“Not helping!” I lunged between my newest clients, somehow managing to look graceful despite my very ungraceful dive. The Merrith engineer’s implants were already sparking, his delicate hands twitching in what I recognized as embarrassment. Across from him, the gorgeous Renthian’s natural electromagnetic field was practically visible - a sure sign of attraction that was about to fry several million credits worth of cybernetics.

“Risa!” I called out, not bothering to look up. “Stop recording and get me the damping field!”

One of the tiny Nazok twins detached herself from her perch near the ceiling - how she’d wedged herself into that corner, I’ll never know. Her silvery-blue fur was practically bristling with excitement as she scampered down the wall. “But Camden, the viewer counts are-”

“Now!”

“Got it!” Her sister Rina was already there, barely reaching my waist but moving with that characteristic Nazok speed. The damping field hummed to life just as the Renthian’s field peaked.

“There,” I smiled at both clients, straightening my jacket. “Much better. Now, shall we discuss compatible dating locations? I know a lovely spot in hydroponics with built-in electromagnetic shielding...”

“Incoming,” MIRA chimed, her crystals shifting to warning red. “Sarith Vask requests an immediate audience. Again.”

I bit back a groan. The so-called ‘Merchant Prince’ had been trying to force a meeting for weeks, ever since I’d politely declined to take him on as a client. His elaborate plumage - currently a stunning display of aggressive crimsons and golds - was visible through my office windows, drawing appreciative looks from passersby.

“Your three o’clock is arriving early,” Rina announced, her pointed ears twitching as she accessed her data feeds. “And your two o’clock is still stuck in customs because someone,” she shot a look at her sister, “forgot to file their species-compatibility forms.”

“I was getting better footage of the Mondian-Sylphid mixer!” Risa protested, already back in her ceiling corner. “Did you see when they tried to share a drink sphere? The Sylphid kept phase-shifting at the wrong moments and the Mondian nearly-”

“Ladies,” I interrupted. “Focus. MIRA, please escort our lovely couple to the environmental planning office. Zyx will help them work out the technical details.” I turned to my clients with my most reassuring smile. “True love is worth a few engineering challenges, don’t you think?”

The Renthian’s silvery skin rippled with pleased bioluminescence, and even the Merrith’s fine features relaxed into what I recognized as a smile. As MIRA guided them out through the side door, I caught fragments of their conversation about modifying sensory dampeners for dates.

“Another successful match!” Risa cheered from above.

“Not yet,” Rina corrected, her small form somehow managing to look serious despite her inherently adorable species characteristics. “But the compatibility indicators are at 87% and rising.”

“Speaking of rising,” MIRA’s crystals pulsed, “Sarith Vask’s blood pressure is-”

The main door swished open, revealing the Merchant Prince in all his glory. His plumage literally brushed the top of the doorframe, and his entourage of various species arranged themselves behind him in what was clearly a practiced display of power.

I straightened my spine, channeling every lesson I’d learned surviving the station’s lower levels. I might be human, but I’d built this business from nothing, and no amount of pretty feathers was going to intimidate me.

“Sarith Vask.” I kept my voice professionally pleasant as the merchant prince swept into my office, his feathers catching the light in precisely calculated displays of wealth and status. “I believe my staff already explained-”

“Your upcoming Valentine’s Gala - the first of its kind in this sector - requires certain... arrangements...” His head tilted at the exact angle to maximize the iridescent flash of his crest. “I’ve brought references from three planetary governors and documentation of my holdings in-”

“Mr. Vask.” I pulled up his file - extensive, annotated, and marked with more red flags than a shipping hazard warning. “Perfect Match’s success is built on genuine compatibility. Our screening process shows you’re looking for a strategic alliance, not a relationship. Until that changes, we wouldn’t be able to provide the results you deserve.”

His feathers bristled. “You dare suggest I’m not good enough for your little dating service? Do you know who I am?”

“Precisely who you are, Mr. Vask. Including the six lawsuits against previous matchmakers, all sealed by rather generous settlements.” I kept my tone professional despite his rising volume. “And the rather interesting pattern of your relationships ending exactly when their business value expires.”

“Those incompetents couldn’t provide what I required-”

“Which was?”

“Someone worthy of my position!” His crest fully extended now, a dominance display that might have been more impressive if I hadn’t seen the nervous flutter in his secondary feathers. “I have standards-”

“As do we.” I stood. “When you’re ready to look for a real connection, Mr. Vask, we’ll be happy to help you find one. Until then, I’m afraid we’ll have to decline.”

“This is because of what happened with Matchmaker Pel, isn’t it?” His voice took on a dangerous edge. “That unfortunate incident could repeat itself, you know. Accidents happen, especially in stations with such... complex atmospheric systems.”

I kept my expression neutral even as I tagged that threat for security follow-up. “Are you threatening me, Mr. Vask?”

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