Time is relative, to each star system and each cosmic body. I say this to illustrate the fact that the following description is a very frequent occurrence. 

A dusty sunset falls on the small planet Era. Calling it a planet is a grandiose generosity by 21st century human standards. In truth, it’s a large asteroid. If one wanted to see another sunrise or sunset there, one could walk to meet one. The rock is just big enough to hold an atmosphere, aided by the several machines that make it possible. 

The ‘planet’ Era houses a handful of businesses as it’s in an asteroid belt between two major galaxies. In its heyday, it was one of a few places to get supplies and a rest stop for intergalactic travelers. That is until the Omni Corporation manufactured a wormhole, significantly reducing travel time and the need to pick up more supplies. Thus, the ‘planet’ Era has seen better and busier days. Some businesses there have resorted to more salacious practices to entice what patronage they can get. 

But I’m rambling and must get the story truly started. 

On this dusty sunset comes a solitary starship. It has also seen better days, there are visible blast marks from railguns and plasma rounds all over it. Telltale signs this is a fighter’s ship. 

The ruby-red paint and pink sapphire trim are faded, likely from too many re-entries through atmospheres without a heat shield. Or maybe flying too close to stars for too long. The callsign “Orion’s Dancer” is hardly legible on the side. 

As it lands, it creaks and groans. Everyone on the ‘planet’ is alerted to the potential new business. No one has landed there in quite some time. The proprietors all go to their windows to see who all will emerge from the ship. 

The loading ramp comes down, the hydraulics scream out in need of oil.

Much to their collective dismay, only one person exits the ship. A human woman in a long leather duster, who has a deterministic air about her. 

Humans are notorious for their constant need to eat and sleep. Good for business. 

The proprietors scramble from the windows and try not to look desperate for business. 

The human takes a piece of paper out from her pocket, examines it, and looks around. She finds what she’s looking for and makes her way over. 

She walks past the general store and the only restaurant, the human bypasses all that for the inn, which nowadays is more of a brothel.

Humans are notorious for that sort of thing too. 

She enters through the batwing doors, taking her weathered hat off out of respect. Her curly brown afro is pulled into a ponytail. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” she says to the owner. Behind the counter is an Imlagdor, a spindly being with phosphorus white skin. Her cobalt blue eyes look at the potential business. 

“How can I help you, sweetie?” She asks. The human starts fiddling with the brim of her hat. 

“I’d like to speak with one of your employees, please. In private, if possible.”

“Well sure honey, we do privacy here.” The Imlagdor holds down a button for an intercom. “Dolls, we have a client here, she’s shy.” 

Moments later, a handful of beings come downstairs. They are from various species and offer a wide range of physicalities. 

The human consults the paper from her pocket again and makes her decision. 

“Her,” the human points to a being in the back. All eyes turn to who she picked and some eyebrows are raised. 

“Okay honey, enjoy your time.”

The human walks up the stairs, following her chosen companion. The duo goes to her room. Upon entering, the human looks around the room, it’s decorated in such a way that it looks luxurious. While the human inspects the room, the woman she followed starts undressing. 

“So, how do you wanna start?” she asks the customer. When the human notices her state of dress she quickly moves her hat to block her face.

“OH! I’M SORRY! I didn’t mean to look, I was hoping to talk to you.” 

“Sure, we can talk.”

The human peeks from behind her hat to see she’s still undressed. The clothing is mostly for aesthetic purposes on a Nogailma, a species that has no real hesitancy towards nudity. Still, the human averts her gaze.

“Um, if it’s not too much trouble, can you put your clothes back on?”

“You’d rather take them off yourself?”

“I’d be more comfortable with you dressed, ma’am.”

“Strange foreplay, but okay,” she mutters to herself as she redresses. After a moment, the human braves another peek from behind her hat and sighs a breath of relief to see her dressed. 

Nogailmas are tetrabrachius, digitgrade beings, covered in short fine hair that shimmers iridescently in any light. She has curves and angles that are pleasing to the eyes of most sentient beings. Both pairs of her arms prop her up as she sits on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m a bounty hunter, ma’am,” the human says. 

“Well, I’ve been very naughty, but I’m sure we can…” she lies back on the bed, one of her arms beckoning the human forward “work something out.”

“OH! I ain’t here for you, ma’am. I don’t think you’re a wanted criminal,” the human replies. “I was hoping that you could give me some information on a fella I’m after.”

The Nogailma leans back up. 

“Wait, are you being serious? This isn’t some cheesy roleplay?”

“I’m entirely serious, ma’am. I could really use your help.” 

At this point, if there was any seductive energy left in the room it has surely dissipated. 

“Let’s start over,” the Nogailma says, assuming a more professional posture. “My name is-”

There’s a brief delay from the universal translator in the bounty hunter’s ear. It takes a second to put the name in sounds a human can produce. 

“Ealnem Erco” is the name she hears. 

“Nice to meet you Ealnem, ma’am,” the bounty hunter says. She reaches for a pocket inside her jacket. From it, she pulls out a holo-viewer. “I’m Zenith Gee.” Her holo-viewer displays her badge and certification as an intergalactic bounty hunter. Her ID shows her clearly not ready for the photo that was taken. Zenith gets embarrassed every time she shows it. 

“You’re the Zenith Gee?” Ealnem asks incredulously. “You’re super famous!” She stands up out of awe. 

“Oh, shucks, I ain’t nobody special,” Zenith rebuffs while rubbing her neck. 

Even here on the outskirts of civilization, folks have heard about the renowned bounty hunter. She’s said to do her work with unparalleled speed and skill and boasts a perfect record. Not one bounty she went after ever escaped, and she’s brought them all in alive. She’s a paragon of virtue in an otherwise notoriously corrupt profession. 

This is why Ealnem is surprised to see her in a brothel asking a prostitute for help.  

She looks over the famous bounty hunter. Standing at 5’11 the human is shorter than Ealnem who stands at 6’5, an average height for her species. The tawny brown skin of her face is pockmarked on her cheeks. Her eyes appear to be a golden yellow, a common result of solar shielding optics, allowing the user to quickly adjust to vastly different amounts and sources of light. What their true color is, Ealnem can’t say. 

Examining her hands she notices something. 

“You’re human, right?” She asks. 

“Indeed, ma’am.”

“I thought humans only have five digits?”

The rough, callused hands of Zenith Gee indeed have an extra finger. Between what should be her middle and ring finger. It’s fully grown and developed. 

“Oh, this is common where I’m from. Ya ever heard of the Founder’s Effect? Some of the humans who originally settled on my home moon had six fingers, so now here I am.”

“You’re not from Earth?” Ealnem asks.

“No, ma’am. Never been, never seen it. I’m from the moon PortStorm. But I came to ask you a few things if that’s all right?” 

“Uhhh, sure.” Ealnem sits back down. Zenith looks around for a chair, fiddling with the brim of her hat all the while. She finds a seat, pulls it opposite Ealnem, and begins her questions. 

“So the fella I’m after goes by the name Lex the Trident. Last anyone heard of him, he was going to the Segue-2 galaxy. He wouldn’t use the wormhole those Omni folks put out there, so he’d have to stop here for resupply and such.” 

Zenith takes out her holo-viewer and shows a picture of her bounty. The man in question is an Ardenlev. A species from the same planet as Ealnem. In the picture, he’s seen running away from a building, covered in the blood of various beings. 

His species is also digitigrade but has only two arms. Porous, obsidian black skin and two large eyes, there is a universally mean look on his face. 

“Yeah, I saw him here…” Ealnem tries to find a unit of time that could apply, but the days and nights are short on Era. And with Zenith coming in from whatever cosmic body she was on, it wouldn’t matter anyway. “A while ago,” she finally says. 

 Under Lex’s picture is a caption that states a reward of sixty thousand credits for his corpse. Eighty thousand for bringing him in alive. 

Ealnem whistles at the price on his head. 

“That’s more money than this place has seen in quite some time. No one’s gone after him yet?”

“Some have,” Zenith answers. “He killed six other bounty hunters. And he’s responsible for the deaths of thirty other beings, that we know of at least.” She puts the holo-viewer away. “He’s set in a bad way. He oughta be stopped ‘fore he hurts more folks. And I reckon I’m in a position to help.”

Ealnem can’t help but notice the firmness in her voice as she says that. The nervous woman hiding behind her hat only a short while ago now talks about going after a dangerous criminal with no fear. 

“So why did you ask for lil’ ol’ me?” Ealnem asks. 

“Well ma’am, I checked the worker list and you’re the only one still working here that was around when he came here. ‘Sides your boss.”

It’s true, Ealnem thought to herself. A lot of the dolls that work here stay briefly before moving on to better and brighter pastures. In all honesty, she isn’t sure why she’s been here as long as it’s been. 

“Plus,” Zenith adds “you’re real pretty, I figured he’d make use of the” she clears her throat “services you provide.” 

The firm bounty hunter from a moment ago is gone and the nervous blushing woman returns. 

“Well, thanks for thinking so, sugar. But he and I wouldn’t get along well. What with us being biologically opposed to each other.”

Nogailmas and Ardenlevs developed on the same planet and formed a predator/prey relationship with each other. Both species evolved in various ways to become the predator of the other. Though they have formed advanced societies, they still treat each other with hostility. 

“Oh, I hadn’t considered that,” Zenith says. 

“He saw another doll, but she told me he was going on about some plans he had on the planet Ratst.”

“Planet Ratst,” Zenith repeats. She writes that down on paper. 

Old fashioned, Ealnem thought. 

“That’s a good place to start. Thank ya, ma’am. I’ll be sure to put in a good word with your boss. Farewell,” Zenith says. The bounty hunter stands up and puts her hat on. Ealnem isn’t sure what compels her to speak up. 

“Wait a sec,” she calls. Zenith lingers at the door. 

“That Lex fella, he’s an Ardenlev; his species has a few tricks up their sleeves. It’s probably how he killed those bounty hunters,” Ealnem warns. “How do you plan on dealing with that?”

Zenith looks at the wall for a bit before answering,

“I hadn’t. Didn’t even know about it.”

“If you’re hunting an Ardenlev, you should bring a Nogailma with you,” Ealnem points out.

“Are...are ya offering to help me, ma’am?” Zenith asks.

“Unless you know another Nogailma?”

“I don’t, it’s just...most folks, they don’t offer to help me,” the bounty hunter explains. She hangs her head as if it’s a personal failing of hers. “It’ll be dangerous ma’am. I can’t rightly ask ya to come with me.”

“You ain’t askin’, I’m offering. You said so yourself, this is a bad fella, he might hurt more folks. I should help out if I can, right?”

“I said he’s in a bad way, but if you’re offering to help then I can’t think of a reason to refuse ma’am.”

“Drop the ‘ma’am’ stuff. I’m Ealnem to you.” She offers one of her hands to the bounty hunter.

“E-Ealnem, thanks.” Zenith shakes her hand, accepting the offer. “I’ll try to keep you safe, okay?”

“Likewise, Zenith.” Another bit of blush rushes to the human’s cheeks. She clears her throat.

“I’ll go explain the situation to your boss. You should gather your things,” the bounty hunter says. With that, she leaves the Nogailma to her room. 

Ealnem looks around her abode. When she first came here however long ago, she didn’t think it was much. But it was hers. Now, it still ain’t much. She never planned on staying as long as she did, but she never did venture out again. 

Hitching a ride with a bounty hunter after a dangerous criminal probably isn’t the best way to get out of here, Ealnem thought to herself. But she pushes that thought away when she recalls how Zenith hung her head. She’ll need help, and it might as well be from Ealnem.

She quickly packs up all her things, easy work for someone with four arms. 

When she closes the door and heads downstairs, she sees Zenith holding her hat; explaining the situation. 

“I’ll be sure to compensate you for any lost patronage,” she overhears Zenith say. Her boss waves off the assurance.

“I don’t own ‘em y’know? They can leave whenever they want, they always do.” Then she notices Ealnem coming down. “Some of ‘em just take longer.” 

Zenith nods at the Imlagdor behind the desk. “Thank ya, ma’am.” 

“See ya Ealnem,” her boss says. The lack of a ‘later’ doesn’t go unnoticed. Ealnem hasn’t decided if there should be one yet.

“So long,” she just says in return.

The duo exit the brothel; one possibly stepping into a new life, the other continuing the path she chose. 

“I have to get some more supplies, and we should eat ‘fore heading out. There someplace to eat ‘round here?” The bounty hunter inquires. 

“You can send a list of things to the general store and they’ll deliver it to your ship, so let’s grab a bite.”

Ealnem leads Zenith to the sole restaurant on the ‘planet’. Practically everyone who lives here eats here as well, given there is no alternative. 

The restaurant is small and cozy, there are only a few other people there. The bounty hunter takes up Ealnem’s suggestion, creating a shopping list while they wait for their food. 

“The food here is good,” Ealnem says. “Granted, it’s the only food around here.”

“Well, I’m not fussy. I’ll eat anything, except mushrooms. I don’t care for ‘em.”

“I know, you told the waiter, Zerlpet, that you don’t want mushrooms with your food.”

“Oh, that’s right. I hope the food comes soon.” The bounty hunter starts fiddling with the salt shaker as she looks around the restaurant.

“You ‘fraid someone’s gonna attack you?”

Zenith snaps her attention back to Ealnem. 

“Hm? No, jus’ appreciatin’ the decor,” she says with a little chuckle. She then focuses on the salt shaker instead. 

“I havta say, you’re not like I thought you’d be,” Ealnem comments. She finds a bit of relief in the obvious nervousness of the human. At first, she thought Zenith was nervous talking to her because of her occupation. But it seems she’s just always like this. 

“You think about me a lot?” Zenith asks with a nervous chuckle.

“No, I just figured that bein’ a famous bounty hunter, you’d be a bit more…” Ealnem tries to think of a word that won’t inadvertently insult the bounty hunter. There is a noticeable pause before she says, “forceful. Rougher, to get other beings to do what you want.”

Zenith shrugs,

“I’m just a person, we all are, y’know? We all have good or bad days, so I try not to make anyone’s day worse if I can help it. Lotta folks don’t seem to share that sentiment but, what can you do?” The bounty hunter takes the salt shaker and spins it in place on the table. 

“That’s a rare way of thinking in this parts,” Ealnem comments. The waiter brings them their food. For Ealnem, a bunch of Sanal shells. They are similar to oysters from earth. For Zenith, a steak from a creature that’s not at all like a cow. It comes with something resembling mashed potatoes, a rich sauce…and sliced mushrooms. 

“Thought you asked for no mushrooms?” Ealnem comments. Zenith waves her extra digit hands,

“No, no, it’s fine. Maybe I’ll like these! You should always try new things!” She takes a bite of the fungi. 

Ealnem doesn’t claim to be an expert on human facial expressions, but she recognizes disgust when she sees it. 

“Zenith, you clearly don’t like it. Ask them to take it back.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t wanna trouble them.”

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Ealnem raises one of her arms to get the attention of the waiter. “Hi, she-” when Ealnem gestures to Zenith, she sees the human hiding her face behind her hat. “She asked for no mushrooms with her food.” 

“My mistake, I’ll take it back immediately,” Zerlpet says.

Zenith, from behind her hat, says,

“Thank you.” 

Zerlpet takes the food back, and after a moment Zenith puts her hat back on her head. 

“I said I didn’t want to trouble ‘em,” she says in a low voice. Her face is warm with embarrassment. 

“And you said that you didn’t want mushrooms. You ain’t askin’ for a whole galaxy, just better service. It’s not trouble to get what you paid for.”

“We haven’t paid for it yet.”

“You know what I mean. If you brought the wrong person to a bounty office, would you expect to get paid?”

“I suppose not, but this ain’t bounty hunting.”

“No, it’s the food industry. It’s a service, so it should be done right.”

Zenith sighs, she takes her hat off once again. Ealnem examines the headwear, it’s not just weathered but old. A few holes in its wide brim, lovingly stitched. The color has faded to muted gray, no trace of the original color remains. It’s been battered and beaten, the fact that it maintains its shape is nothing of a miracle. The bounty hunter traces her fingers over the frayed brim. 

“Can I confess somethin’ to ya?”

“Sure.”

“The moon where I’m from, there’s a lot of mushrooms that grow naturally. They do nothin’ to humans, supposed to be a great source of fiber and all that, but…I never liked ‘em. Pretty much everybody had ‘em with every meal or just had the mushrooms themselves. But I still never liked the things. I used to get into arguments with my dad about eating ‘em all the time. So I was kinda hoping I’d like these but…guess not.”

Ealnem mulls over what Zenith shared for a moment. 

“Look, you’re a grown woman. If you don’t like something, you don’t have to like it, you don’t have to try it again, okay? It’s your life, so you gotta live it the way you want to. Mushrooms be damned.”

“Thank ya, ma- Ealnem,” Zenith says. The food is returned, mushroom free. 

The duo finishes their meal in peace and then head to the bounty hunter’s ship. 

“This is your ship?” Ealnem asks, a little ruder than she meant it to sound. 

“Yes ma’am, Orion’s Dancer. Bought ‘im after my third bounty. Been riding between stars ever since,” Zenith replies. If she detected any rudeness, she makes nothing of it. 

The supplies she bought from the general store wait by the loading ramp in a large crate. The credits she spent for them will tide this ‘planet’ over for a long time. 

The ship is shaped like an arrowhead, a design for crafts that spend more time in a planet’s atmosphere rather than the vacuum of space where aerodynamics don’t matter. 

“Lower the ramp,” Zenith says. The ship complies, the ramp creakily permits them to come aboard. “I have got to fix this ramp,” the bounty hunter says to herself. 

Ealnem is about to offer to help with her crate but the human picks it up with relative ease. Though granted, there isn’t much gravity here. 

Before she walks up the ramp, Ealnem hesitates. It’s been so long since she set foot on a ship. The last one she was one dropped her off here. 

She can’t help but wonder if she’s ready to leave just like this. One last look at this sleepy place should do. 

“You okay?” Zenith asks. 

“Yeah, just…fine.” With that, she walks up the ramp, into a different life. 

As they board the ship, Ealnem notices a holster hanging on a hook stuck to the wall. The leather garment holds the twin revolver pistols of the bounty hunter, just as famous as her. They aren’t particularly remarkable weapons, quite standard in fact. The only thing that sets them apart are the custom grips. They’re longer to accommodate her extra fingers. 

Higher quality, better performing weapons exist; but the skill with which she uses them is a distinct reminder that the weapon doesn’t matter, just the person using it. 

The holster also houses various types of ammunition for the guns. Plasma rounds, incendiary, depleted uranium, hollow point diamond-tipped shells. Some of which would guarantee death but for only the sturdiest of beings. She hardly ever touches them, but better safe than sorry. 

“So these are the guns of Zenith, huh?” Ealnem comments. 

“Mhmm,” Zenith says. She puts down the crate and walks over. “That’s Vapor and Bone.” She points to them alternatingly. Despite their lethal sounding epithets, they’ve never taken a single life. They’re also identical so the different names serve little purpose. 

“Grim,” Ealnem notes. 

“They’re just the first names that came to me,” Zenith replies. “Orion!” 

The lights on the ship turn on and a digital voice answers,

“Yes, Zenith?”

“Ealnem, this is Orion, the ship’s A.I. Orion, this is Ealnem, a guest. Let her have full access to the ship.”

“Understood, Zenith. Registering new guest.”

“Your ship is…quaint,” Ealnem says. 

“It’s old. But it’s what I got.”

“I just figured you’d fly something a bit sleeker.”

Zenith shrugs. She supposes if it works for her then it works for her. Not like Ealnem has a better ship. 

“Orion: recycle the oxygen, purge any debris in the intakes, and plot me a course to the planet Ratst. We have a livin’ to make.”

“Understood.”

Zenith starts unpacking the crate. 

“Follow me, I’ll give ya the grand tour.”

The bounty hunter shows Ealnem the kitchen, the pilot's nook, storage room, the engine room, and the brig. It’s not much of a grand tour. 

Finally, they get to the sleeping quarters. The ship was designed with a minimum crew in mind, and Zenith has been traveling alone all this time; so there is only one bed. 

“This is where you’ll be sleeping,” Zenith says. 

“And where will you sleep?”

“In the brig.”

“What? No, you won’t!”

“The bed there is just as good as this one, better even since it’s not used as much.”

“Don’t be absurd, this is your ship! What if an emergency happens and you need to get to the controls?”

“I can exit the brig, Orion will let me out, it’s fine.”

“I’m a guest, I wouldn’t be comfortable with the idea of you sleeping in the brig. I’ll stay there.”

“You can’t! The bed in there is horrible, folks keep stowing dangerous weapons in it; trying to surprise attack me!”

“You just said the bed was better.”

“I was fibbing so you wouldn’t feel bad,” Zenith says, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry.” 

“You’re not sleeping on a horrible bed for my well-being. So compromise: we share it.”

Zenith audibly gulps.

“S-share it?” She meekly asks. “That wouldn’t be awkward for you?”

“Do you know how many people I’ve shared a bed with? Is it awkward for you?”

Blush returns to the cheeks of the bounty hunter. 

“I’ve never shared a bed with anyone before,” she responds. Her hands look for something and settle on the hem of her shirt. “I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, so I guess we can share it.” 

“You don’t have to say it like it’s a death sentence.”

“I’m not! Or I’m trying not to, I’m just nervous is all.”

“Don’t worry,” Ealnem says “I won’t do anything untowards.”

“I’m not nervous about that!”

“I’m just joking, hon.”

“Oh.”

“Zenith,” the voice of the ship says. “I’ve purged the intakes, recycled the oxygen, and plotted a course for our next destination.”

“Then take us up, Orion! We have a livin’ to make!” She repeats her phrase from before. 

The ramp closes and with several groans, the ship takes off. 

Ealnem watches from the rear window as they leave. In no time at all the ‘planet’ becomes an indistinguishable dot in the vastness of space. 

Zenith pilots the ship out of the massive asteroid belt they find themselves in. Ealnem unpacks her stuff in the meantime. 

Once they’re clear of the belt, Zenith activates the UltraDrive, a device that allows ships to go several thousand times faster than the speed of light. Useful for crossing empty regions of space, extremely dangerous anywhere else. 

The lights start to dim on the ship. 

“The UV lights on the ship operate on a clock to match my home moon, so I hope it doesn’t mess up your circadian rhythm,” Zenith explains. 

Ealnem shrugs,

“Era is tiny, folks there slept whenever they felt like it. I’ll get used to it.”

“Good,” Zenith says while rubbing her eye. Ealnem thinks it’s cute. “We’re a ways out from Ratst. Imma get some shuteye.” The bounty hunter yawns. 

“Sounds good,” Ealnem says. Zenith visibly jumps when she realizes that Ealnem is following her to her quarters. “Forgot already?”

“N-no. Just need to mentally prepare is all.”

“Hon, we’re just sleeping next to each other. It’s just lying down and closing our eyes.”

Zenith nods her head quickly in agreement. 

Ealnem changes into a nightgown, though she’d prefer to be naked, she’d rather not give Zenith a heart attack. 

The bounty hunter only took off her coat and boots. If she’s too nervous to undress further or she just prefers to sleep this way, Ealnem can’t say. 

They lie side by side on the gel bed. An awkward silence thick enough to cut hangs over them. Zenith tries to lie as straight as possible, staring at the ceiling. 

“I wanna thank ya again, Ealnem. I’ve been doing this by myself for a long time,” Zenith speaks up. “And even though I’m very nervous right now,” she admits. “It’s nice having someone here, ‘sides ol’ Orion. So thanks for coming with me.” 

“You really haven’t had anyone else with you all this time?”

Zenith slowly shakes her head. 

“Just me and the bounties I bring in.”

A myriad of questions come to Ealnem’s mind, but she sees Zenith take a deep breath and close her eyes. 

Best to let her have peace when she can. 

Not soon after, the Nogailma drifts off to sleep. 

However much time passes, and a bump rattles the ship. Likely a gravitational flux from a larger ship passing by. The bump wakes Ealnem up, to discover she’s alone in the bed. 

She gets up to look for the bounty hunter, only to find her in the pilot’s seat. Her leather duster covers her like a blanket. Her old hat is tilted to cover her sleeping face. 

She had her holo-viewer open to study Ardenlev biology, she even highlighted non-vital parts that’ll incapacitate Lex.

The thought of carrying her to bed briefly comes to mind but Ealnem decides to let Zenith stay there. 

Instead, she pulls her coat up to better cover her shoulders. She then puts one of her hands on her cheek and says,

“Silly sweet girl.”

Ch.1 End