Though she had enough credits to retire, Mrill hated having nothing to do. She liked well enough walking on the promenade at night, but there only was so much walking she could put up with before she grew restless.

It wasn’t so much the boredom that concerned her as having too much time to think about her life choices and where she was at.

So her employer was not surprised when she showed up at his office the next day. In fact, he had expected it. When Mrill did not have a target, she’d drop by every single day—sometimes even twice on the same day—to make sure she didn’t miss a job.

Gorol Janth was a typical Talan. Of human stock, with two small black eyes under furrowed brows, short brown hair, and a pointy chin. He ran a private security firm that people often turned to when they needed to hunt down someone and keep it quiet. Of course, they’d still need to fill out forms and obtain official authorization from the government—this was a legal business, after all—but the entire process was fully automated and no human eyes would ever see those forms... unless something went very wrong. So the only people who knew anything about these jobs were the client, the employer, the assigned bounty hunter, and some cold, distant, unnamed AI.

Janth sighed as the blue woman leaned against the wall, in a corner of the room. She liked the spot, as it would have been impossible for anyone to have the drop on her.

“Sorry, Mrill,” he started before she said anything. “I don’t have anything for you. You really should consider taking some time off.”

“I have nothing to do,” she said flatly.

“Find yourself some friends. Maybe even a guy you like? Time will pass much more quickly, I promise.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d made this suggestion. Her answer came like clockwork, the same as always.

“I am blue,” she reminded him.

He wrinkled his nose and shrugged. “I’m sure there are plenty who wouldn’t mind. Or maybe you can find some blind guy.”

She didn’t react to the joke—she never did. She just stared at him for a moment before she pushed away from the wall.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” she said as she headed for the door.

A bell rang and she froze, glancing at Janth’s TriVid screen.

He tapped on the display, and lines of text scrolled under his eyes. He read through quietly, then looked at his favorite bounty hunter.

“I don’t think this one would work for you, Mrill.”

“Anything will work for me.”

“It’s an offworld job.”

She remained quiet for a moment, her face not showing any emotion. Even after all these years, he still found this unsettling. You never could tell what she thought or how she felt. Did she even know what emotions were? He couldn’t remember ever seeing her smile or shrug or laugh... It was troubling.

He had to keep reminding himself that, despite appearances, she wasn’t human. You couldn’t expect an alien to act or think like a human.

“Where?” she asked.

He looked back at the job description. “Ebar. It’s out on the rim.” He frowned as he noticed a detail he had previously missed. “It’s very close to Rimzana. Could be risky, what with all the chaos going on out there...”

“Risk is part of the job,” she said. “I’ll take it.”

Her voice was as bland as spicy food in a mothra’s mouth. Mothra meat was the tastiest and spiciest thing Janth had ever eaten in his life—no wonder the creature found human spices so bland.

He pondered. Perhaps this was for the best. It’d at least get her to travel, see other places and other people. Maybe she’d make some friends along the way.

He sighed. “Alright. Just make sure you don’t get yourself killed, or I swear I’ll have to kick your butt myself, even if I have to go find you in the afterlife.”

“That might prove difficult,” she said quietly.

He peered at her, then shrugged and sent all the data to her wristpad.

“Two million credits for this one,” he said. “And they want him alive. You know what that word means, right?”

It was more than any other job she’d ever had—and more than he had ever seen. He idly wondered what the guy must have done to become such a high-priced target.

“Not dead,” she answered in her usual deadpan tone. “No problem.”

She tipped her head and headed out.