The music was loud enough that the metal grate under Emelyn's feet vibrated with the pounding of the bass. The singer wasn't human, or at least, no human voice she knew of could make sounds like that. Not that she minded. Emelyn wasn't a xenophobe, no matter what people might say about her.

Even the familiar voices of human club music would get on her nerves at the moment, so she tried not to place any blame on the singer for her pounding headache. It was her own fault for chasing a lead into a place like this. If she had any sense at all, she would have given up on this job, or at least waited for the target to be in a more convenient location.

But her ship was almost out of fuel, and she had been out of food for two days save the rations that were meant for emergencies. The freeze-dried nutrient bars were disgusting, but they were better than an empty stomach.

Emelyn had choked down the last of those that morning.

She had a few credits in her account and a handful of dollars that would pay for a meal, but she was saving those. If she was lucky, Emelyn would be feasting after this.

If she wasn't, she'd have to take desperate and drastic measures.

Well, even more drastic than she already had.

Life as a bounty hunter wasn't exactly something she had ever envisioned for herself, she mused as she shuffled forward in the queue, arms crossed over her chest to give herself a bit of modesty. Emelyn was still used to military regulations, used to the uniform, the fatigues that she lived in since she was 18. The revealing dress she dug out of the back of a consignment shop was so far from her usual fashion that she could barely focus. But Emelyn's purpose that night was to fit in, so the dress was her only choice.

It was short, barely reaching to her mid-thigh, made from an iridescent, silky material that gave the illusion of being almost transparent, Emelyn wasn't a very thin woman, and her breasts and thighs were tightly outlined by the fabric, hiding her considerable strength. It was enough to turn heads from those that she passed, and this, too, she despised. She was on a job, not there for pleasure, though there was no way for these strangers to know that.

Shifting on her feet, she ignored the ache from the cheap high heel, shuffling forward once more. The line was moving, slowly, but steadily, and that was the only thing keeping her going.

"Any news?" she said under her breath, speaking just enough so that the sub-vocal mic disguised as a necklace could pick it up.

"The mark is still within view of the security cameras," came the androgynous voice of Phoenix, her artificial intelligence partner, through her earpiece. "I believe he is currently paying for a lapdance. Must I really watch this pathetic display of ill-gotten wealth?" The last was said in a clearly plaintive tone, and Emelyn choked on a laugh.

She turned it into a cough as people started staring at her, smiling weakly.

"Yes," she said. "We need to keep an eye on him until I can get in there."

She got only static in return, Phoenix's expression of frustration. And Emelyn couldn't blame them, not really. The AI was as suited to bounty hunting as her, which was not at all. And the truth was, both of them felt this job was beneath them.

But Emelyn needed to eat to live, and Phoenix was tied to her, irrevocably. The AI had no choice, if she wanted to continue her relatively free existence.

The line shuffled forward, and Emelyn wrapped her arms around her shoulders with a shiver, before rubbing her bare arms vigorously. Guardian Station, as it was known in English, was kept colder than not. Most stations were. It was expensive to heat the station in the depths of space, and the delicate technology that ran it all also needed to stay cool.

The Ehlihg behind her trilled, and she knew enough to know they were amused.

"You cold, sweetheart?" the alien said in their melodic language, translated by the implant in Emelyn's ears. "We could warm you up in the back."

"No thanks," Emelyn said, short and not quite rudely, rolling her eyes. She wasn't exactly used to catcalls directed at her, but she wasn't naive. People were the same everywhere, humans, aliens, wherever. If they thought they had any kind of power over you — they would use it.

They made a noise that was like something from a harmonica, though not quite, and Emelyn knew it was a laugh.

"Aww, don't be like that, sweetheart," the Ehlihg said, a condescending note in their harmonic voice. "I've had plenty of humans — and I've always left them more than satisfied."

Emelyn might have been unarmed, but that didn't mean she was harmless. She could see it in her head how things might go, almost feel the connection of her fist with the flesh of the Ehlihg's meaty stomach, see him bend over double with a groan, feel the sensation of bringing her knee up to collide with their sensitive face.

She was sorely tempted to do it. The anger, the rage, even, of her own recent circumstances, filed her, and oh how she wanted to take them out on this soul.

But Emelyn thought of her target, and the bounty. Being taken away by station security would kill her chances of taking the bastard in, and she could kiss the reward goodbye.

So she turned, and smiled.

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"Oh, I don't know, big guy," she said, praying that her guess about the alien's gender was right enough that they wouldn't be offended. "I'm pretty hard to satisfy."

"What are you doing?" Phoenix hissed in her ear, but Emelyn ignored the AI, sauntering up to Ehlihg and giving him a wide, toothy smile, one that he would see as more suggestive than not.

"I came here alone," she purred as they nearly vibrated with excitement, "and I could use some company."

"Come on, [untranslatable: affectionate term]. I am Hnrahg." They introduced themselves, reaching a confident claw towards Emelyn.

"Call me Em," she said, unwilling to use her full name. She slipped into their offered arms, both of them wrapped around her shoulders as she leaned into their almost gelatinous side.

"[Untranslatable: curse], Hn!" their companion said, slapping them on the back gently. "You get all the pretty ones."

Emelyn laughed politely, keeping a smile on her face, and showing off her white teeth. To the Ehlihg, a smile was everything; their own mouths were filled with rows of pointed teeth, almost like a shark. But it was their long tongues that made them desirable bed partners for humans, Emelyn knew, though only from rumors.

The line moved forward again, further this time, and they were at the entrance of the club. Emelyn reached out her left wrist to pay, but Hnrahg gave a melodic laugh and tugged her closer.

"Let me, [untranslatable: affectionate term]." he said, holding out one of his left arms for the bouncer to scan. He paid for all them, and they entered the club as a group.

Which was, of course, the whole point of her uncharacteristic behavior. Emelyn got free admission, free drinks, and a free disguise.

No one would look at her twice.

The music was even louder inside, and she had to hide a wince as the pain in her forehead increased. Instead, she leaned up to her companion, nearly shouting to be heard.

"I'll get us drinks! You find us a seat," she said, to which he gave a human-like nod; he was obviously used to dealing with her species, if he picked up their body language.

"I'm in," she said as she made her way up to the bar. "He's still here?"

"Yes," Phoenix confirmed, sounding bored. "He's spending credits like he's got money to burn. You'll see him up to your left, surrounded by dancers and whoever wants a free drink."

Emelyn let a smirk appear on her face.

"Perfect. I'll grab him, you notify station security, we'll be out in five minutes."

"I hope so. My servers feel dirty after breaking past the security in this place. Please no more seedy clubs."

"Not if I can help it, Nix. I don't like it any more than you do."

"Please, Emelyn. My name is Phoenix."

Emelyn bit back a laugh, approaching the target, a sultry sway to her hips. She found him immediately, mentally comparing his face to the picture that had been in his file.

Olivier Levesque, born in Montreal, Canada in 2248. On the run from Sol authorities for the past two years for embezzling over a million credits from his former company, Bergeron Holdings. It was the CEO of the company who was responsible for the sizable bounty, a fraction of what Mr. Levesque had stolen but a fortune to Emelyn.

She wasn't foolish enough to bring a gun to the club, or even on the station — that would have been detected immediately by the security scanners as she left her ship. Even as a legal bounty hunter, guns weren't allowed on Ascendancy stations unless you had a special license for them. Instead, she had a small taser in her bra, a collapsible baton in her boots, and plastic handcuffs to secure the suspect.

Usually, she'd carry even more equipment, but the dress and heels left little place for storage, something she hated about this job.

Making eye contact with Mr. Levesque, she smiled, a slow, suggestive thing, looking him up and down. She knew she looked appealing, or at least, she hoped she did.

His eyes widened as she moved forward, hips swaying, and he leaned back, beckoning her close.

"Hello, mon ange," he said with a smirk, spreading his legs in invitation. "Come sit here with me, and I'll buy you a drink, eh?"

With a smirk, Emelyn straddled his thighs, kneeling on the couch above him. He looked taken aback by her bold move, but pleased at the same time.

"You'll buy me plenty," she said, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "Olivier Levesque, you're wanted by the Sol Federation for embezzlement, corporate espionage, and crossing intergalactic borders as a fugitive."

Levesque swore, something very long and very Quebecois that her translator didn't catch. He surged up, trying to push her out of his lap, but she shifted her weight, forcing him down on the couch, her legs tight around his thighs, reaching for his hands to subdue him.

"Station Security is on the way," she grunted as he fought. "Don't make me taze you."

He was still for a moment, but just as she began to hope that he was going to come quietly, he leaned back and headbutted her, his forehead connecting with her nose.

"Son of a bitch!" she hissed, feeling a painful crunch, her eyes watering. She felt the urge to bring her hands up to cradle her face, to protect herself, but resisted. Still, Levesque managed to push her off his lap to the ground. He gave her once swift kick in the stomach, apparently hoping to slow her down, and then booked it toward the door.

"I don't fucking think so," Emelyn growled.

She pulled out the taser, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The next thing she knew, Levesque was writhing on the ground, electricity pulsing through him.

Emelyn wiped her mouth as she forced herself upright, spitting a wad of blood. Staggering forward, she knelt next to her target, quickly and efficiently binding his wrists with the plastic handcuffs. Only then did she remove the two darts that had pierced his skin, resetting the taser and slipping it back under her dress.

The commotion of the arrest had, naturally, drawn the attention of everyone in the club. Even the DJ must have noticed, because the song they'd been playing slowed to a stop, and nothing replaced it. Now awkward silence filled the large, industrial room, broken only by whispers of those who were staring at her.

"Um," she said, unused to her work drawing this kind of attention. Sure, people had stared before, but usually, she wasn't in the middle of a club. It wasn't her kind of job, really, but she no longer had the luxury of picking and choosing.

"I told him not to make me taze him," she offered, the words feeling ridiculous on her tongue. Much to her shock, several people laughed, and the music started playing again as the DJ began speaking.

Emlyn tuned them out, focusing on her captive.

Levesque wasn't quite unconscious, or at least, his body kept twitching, which was a slightly disturbing sight.

"He's all right, isn't he, Pheonix?" she muttered under her breath, knowing the AI would pick up on her subvocals. "I didn't, uh, kill him, right?"

"Let me consult my Magic 8 ball," Pheonix replied, sarcasm heavy in her voice. "I'm not all-knowing, you understand that, right Em?"

"Oh, sorry," Emelyn said, having forgotten she didn't have her usual equipment on her.

With the air of one all forgiving, Pheonix spoke.

"I understand. Your feeble human mind can only process so much at once."

Emelyn bit back a laugh, wincing as her nose ached with the movement. She reached up and prodded at the injured flesh, hissing as she felt the bones shift.

"Are you injured?" Phoenix asked, their usually disinterested voice tinted with concern.

"Just have to straighten out my nose," she muttered. "Bastart headbutted me, broke it."

Phoenix let out a loud bout of static.

"Should have tased him twice," they said, matter of factly.

This time, Emelyn did laugh.