Page 10 of Bounty Hunter’s Match (Vinduthi Captured Mates #6)

BAREK

" T he 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 glanced over 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?”

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

“The suite’s systems are fully operational and equipped with amenities to support extended stays. The emergency fold-out sleep pod is particularly... accommodating.”

Camden groaned, rubbing her temples. “We’ve been played.”

“Definitely,” I replied, crossing the room to lean against the wall. “But I’m not complaining.”

She shot me a glare, but it lacked heat. “Of course you’re not.”

“Would’ve been worse if it was actually a vase,” I pointed out. “At least here we can sit down. Relax.”

Her lips quirked into a reluctant smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“Good thing you like me that way.” I pushed off the wall and stepped closer, my gaze locking on hers. “And since we’re stuck here... we might as well make the most of it.”

Camden’s expression softened, her datapad lowering as her shoulders relaxed. “You’re impossible.”

“Efficient,” I corrected, my voice dropping as I closed the last of the distance between us. “And we’ve got time to kill.”