Page 5 of Marked By the Bounty Hunter

“Stars, no.” She rubbed her temples. “There’s a repair shop in Yellow Section. Old Man Odra’s. The machinery noise creates electromagnetic interference - blocks most surveillance tech. Even your hearing can’t separate individual conversations from the industrial cacophony.”

“I’ll find you.”

She snorted. “I bet you will.” She turned to go, then paused. “I’m Nalina.”

The tilt of her head exposed her neck, and I almost stepped closer to breath her in. “But you already know my name, don’t you? Been listening all night.”

“Hard not to, when every drunk in the place calls for you.” I let my own smile show teeth. “Tyrix.”

“Well, Tyrix.” The way she said my name sent heat down my spine. “Try not to kill anyone on my station before tomorrow.”

I watched her walk away, noting how quickly she vanished into the shadows. The urge to follow her was... unsettling.

And once I followed her, the urge to do more things to her and have her do things to me was just as uncontrollable. This woman was intoxicating.

Vinduthi weren’t known for being unsettled by anything, let alone a human bartender with too many secrets.

This could be useful. This could be... complicated.

NALINA

The stink of ozone and hot metal hit my nose before I pushed through Odra’s doors. Inside, machines whirred and clanked, casting strange shadows across walls covered in spare parts. The air smelled like the bar during cleaning - hot metal and ozone, with undertones of grease. A broken cargo loader spewed its guts across the floor - servos and circuit boards scattered like entrails. Just another day of keeping the station’s aging equipment running.

“Watch your step.” Odra hunched over his workbench, three eye stalks swaying as he picked through drone components. His skin rippled from deep blue to pale green when he spotted me. “You’re early.”

“And you’re grumpy.” I picked my way through the chaos. “Bad morning?”

“Had to pull an all-nighter fixing the environmental controls for Blue Section,” his fingers never stopped moving, weaving wires together with practiced grace. “Some genius tried a DIY repair with copper wire. Nearly fried half the system.”

“Could’ve been worse. Remember when I was your apprentice? That time I crossed the wrong relays and blew out power to half of Yellow Section?”

Odra’s third eye stalk twitched, a tell I remembered from my training days. “You always did push yourself too hard. Some things never change.” His skin flickered with amusement. “Three years of teaching you maintenance basics before you decided bartending was more profitable. At least you learned enough to keep the Horizon’s systems running.” He set down his tools. “Speaking of repairs...”

His skin darkened. “That Vinduthi warrior’s been asking around the merchant’s corridor. Not subtle about it either. Half my suppliers mentioned him stopping by.”

My stomach dropped. “How did you-”

“Please. News travels fast when someone that big starts poking around.” He set down his tools. “You picking fights with the wrong people again?”

“Not exactly.” I leaned against his workbench. “I need a favor.”

“Of course you do.” His skin flickered through shades of yellow and gray. “What kind of trouble are we talking about?”

“The kind that needs privacy.”

Odra’s eye stalks swiveled toward the back room. “Fine. But if this brings trouble to my door...”

“It won’t. Promise.”

“Your promises aren’t worth much these days.” But he waved me toward the storage area anyway. “Try not to knock anything over back there. Some of that equipment’s older than you are.”

And he would know. Odra had taught me more than just basic maintenance during my apprenticeship. He’d shown me how to navigate the station’s oldest systems - the ones installed before standardized security, still running on original protocols.

Most of the newer maintenance workers didn’t even know these legacy systems existed. But Odra believed in understanding the station’s history, and those old access routes had saved my life more than once.

The back room smelled of dust and machine oil. Shelves towered with outdated tech, creating narrow corridors between stacks of parts. Perfect for a private conversation - or an ambush.

Heavy footsteps approached from the front. Odra’s skin rippled dark purple.

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