Page 10 of Marked By the Bounty Hunter

“Back exit?” she asked.

Dasari nodded toward a hidden panel. “Two lefts, then straight until you hear the third drip.”

We moved quickly, but Nalina caught Dasari’s arm. “Thank you.”

“Do not thank me yet.” Dasari’s skin rippled one final time. “And Nalina? Watch the pattern of the drips. They changed recently. Someone has adjusted the environmental controls.”

The panel slid shut behind us, leaving us in darkness. Nalina’s hand found mine, warm and steady.

“Ready?” she whispered.

I squeezed her fingers. “Lead the way.”

But after the second turn, the familiar rhythm of moisture changed. The drops came faster, more erratic. Nalina tensed beside me.

“The pattern shifted,” she whispered. “Environmental controls...”

A hiss of pressurized air cut her off. Ahead, a maintenance hatch swung open. Two figures in station uniforms stepped through, tools hanging wrong on their belts. No grease stains, no worn patches - costumes, not work clothes.

I pulled Nalina into a recessed pipe junction. She pressed against me, breath held. The false maintenance workers moved with military precision, checking corners, scanning shadows.

“Section E-7 clear,” one murmured into a comm unit. “Moving to F-2.”

“They’re boxing us in,” Nalina breathed against my chest. “Using the environmental systems to herd people away from certain areas.”

“Or toward them.” I studied the pipes around us. “The temperature’s dropping. They’re manipulating air flow.”

Her fingers found mine in the dark. “There’s an old waste processing shaft three meters back. Hasn’t been used since they upgraded the systems five years ago.”

“How do you know these things?”

“You learn a lot serving drinks to maintenance workers.” A smile in her voice, despite everything. “Ready to get dirty?”

The shaft was narrow, slick with years of condensation. Nalina went first, movements sure despite the tight space. I followed, my larger frame scraping against corroded metal. It might have been years since this shaft was used, but to my senses, the odor was… best left indescribable.

Above us, boots clicked on grating, moving in search pattern formation.

We emerged two sections over, covered in rust and grime. Nalina’s hair had come loose, dark strands clinging to her neck. She looked wild, alive. Something in my chest tightened.

“That was no routine patrol,” she said, wiping rust from her hands. “They’re getting more aggressive.”

“They’re preparing for something.” I helped her over a tangle of pipes. “The question is what.”

NALINA

The wet ladder rungs bit into my palms. I led Tyrix through Nova’s Edge’s innards, taking us deeper into the abandoned storage bays. My old boots scrabbled against slick metal. Strange - I used to be more sure-footed in these tunnels. Lately my balance felt off, like my body was recalibrating itself.

“Watch that pipe,” I called back. A broken coolant line hung at head height - for me, at least. Tyrix would have to duck. “Two more turns.”

My hideaway lay hidden behind a defunct cargo loader, untouched since I’d found it three years ago during a station-wide security sweep.

Most abandoned bays had been sealed off, but this one still had power - and more importantly, didn’t show up on any current station schematics. The massive door groaned as I keyed in my code, metal screaming against metal.

“Charming place,” Tyrix muttered.

“Better than getting caught by patrols.” I slipped inside, fumbling for the emergency light panel. Blue-white illumination flickered to life, casting harsh shadows across stacked crates and forgotten equipment.

“I keep supplies here. Clean clothes, med kit...”

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