Runaway Stars

Haven Station.

The door to Dex’s Bar squeaked so pathetically it seemed to apologize for what was about to happen. Karmilla stepped inside and immediately regretted it. The familiar ensemble hit her in the nose: bitter burnt oil mixed with cheap alcohol and Vexa’s sweet chemistry.

After eight hours of “dealing with particularly demanding clients,” every nerve vibrated from an overload of human stupidity. Enhanced sensory organs that should have helped in combat now turned any bar into torture: she heard every fake sigh, smelled every lie and desperation. She urgently needed to reboot her brain. Preferably without amnesia.

“Give me something strong,” she told Dex.

Dex silently poured something murky brown from an unlabeled bottle. Karmilla took a sip. It burned her throat, but her enhanced liver was already neutralizing the toxins. Dex was clearly watering down even this swill. Cheapskate.

Then a theatrical baritone reached her from the far corner:

“...and then this pirate from KeLPer-442 starts threatening me! And what do I do? That’s right—I laugh in his face! Like a real hero in act three!”

Karmilla turned. At the counter with the hologram bartender stood a specimen of male beauty: dark hair, strong jaw, green eyes. Waving his arms like a director of a cheap holofilm, telling stories to a broken hologram stuck on the phrase “How interesting... how interesting...”

“See, baby?” the pretty boy continued, not noticing the glitch. “My stories left you speechless! Classic romantic subplot setup!”

Jesus, Karmilla thought, he’s flirting with a system bug.

The guy clearly thought he was the protagonist of his own holomo, the kind where a muscular idiot saves the galaxy and gets all the girls. His expensive jacket with worn spots was either props or traces of real failures. He gestured like he was performing for a crowd of fans.

“And then I tell him: ‘Listen, buddy, first learn to hold a blaster properly!’” He threw his arm wide. “And he just started crying! Just like in Star Wars, only better!”

Steady heartbeat, stable breathing, dilated pupils from excitement. He genuinely believed every word. Pathological narcissism had reached the level of alternate reality.

“See, princess,” he addressed the hologram, “real heroes don’t brag about their exploits. We just live them every day! That’s genre irony!”

Karmilla nearly choked. He’d just bragged, then claimed he wasn’t bragging, and called it genre irony. This idiot thinks he’s living in a postmodern comedy.

The storage door creaked, and Vexa emerged with a bottle of shimmering liquid. She looked like a prowler after a successful hunt, tired but satisfied. Movements were confident, like an experienced chemist’s, but her hands trembled slightly from constant contact with active substances.

“Karmilla,” Vexa nodded. Business-friendly tone.

“Vexa,” Karmilla replied with the same neutrality.

Haven diplomacy in action. Vexa set the bottle on the counter exactly in the middle. Neutral territory.

“I see Dex treated you to his signature paint thinner,” Vexa smirked, studying the murky liquid in Karmilla’s glass. “I’ve got something more interesting. Fatum. Removes social inhibitions and lets you see people as they really are.”

Karmilla examined the bottle’s contents. The liquid slowly rotated on its own, leaving rainbow streaks on the glass. It smelled of ozone with a metallic aftertaste.

“Side effects?”

“Superpower. Might be painful, but pleasant,” Vexa was already studying the pretty boy with a hungry look. “Want quality product?”

After today, Karmilla was ready for experiments. What could break someone who already felt like an assembly of stolen parts?

“Why not?”

Vexa poured. The liquid was warm and passed through her body in a soft wave. Sharp edges of work memories blurred, but her senses sharpened even more. Now she felt not just lies, but dirty motives too.

Meanwhile, Vexa’s eyes never left the theatrical pretty boy.

“New guy?” Karmilla asked.

“Fresh blood. Let’s see how long he lasts playing with professionals,” Vexa took another glass. “Men like him are my favorite clients. So convinced of their own irresistibility.”

She approached the pretty boy and set the glass by his elbow. No flirtation, just a business proposition from hunter to prey.

“Compliments of the house. For real space heroes.”

The guy finally tore himself from the hologram. His face lit up with a Hollywood smile, practiced to automation.

“Oh, thanks, beautiful stranger!” He struck a pose like for a poster. “But I warn you—alcohol doesn’t affect the legendary Captain Soren. Too much adrenaline from constant adventures! Although...” He winked. “Sometimes a hero needs to relax between exploits.”

Legendary captain? Karmilla felt her lips curl into a smirk on their own. This idiot actually calls himself that?

Vexa looked at him with mysterious interest.

“This isn’t alcohol, handsome. It’s... let’s say, a strength detector. But only for the brave.” She ran a finger along the rim of his glass. “Though I understand if you’re scared. Not everyone’s ready for real adventures.”

Soren sniffed the contents, winced, but the challenge was thrown.

“Ha! If you only knew what drinks I’ve had to try in cantinas at the galaxy’s edge!” He raised the glass like a toast. “Once on Proxima Centauri, locals treated me to ‘Death of Stars.’ Drank three glasses straight and still danced! True, I didn’t remember my name for three days after, but that’s another story!”

And downed it in one gulp.

Vexa turned and walked back to the counter, satisfied as a cat with a canary.

“Soren!” he called after her. “Captain of the starship Fortune! Explorer of unknown worlds, tamer of space beasts and...” Pause for effect. “...conqueror of women’s hearts in his spare time!”

Karmilla barely suppressed a laugh. “Conqueror of women’s hearts”? In her ears, that phrase sounded especially pathetic.

Meanwhile, Fatum was starting to work. Soren’s movements became smoother, but his gaze sharper. The fake bravado began cracking at the seams.

“Although...” he suddenly looked into space, “sometimes a hero needs a worthy partner. For epic adventures. And epic... well, you understand.”

The door squeaked again, and a living cosmetics ad in a pastel pink dress flew inside. Three elegant orbs the size of fists hovered silently around her, glowing with soft light.

“Hello, my sweeties!” Pixie chirped into the main orb. “Pixie’s back with you! And today we have a special mission—looking for real fairytale love in the most unexpected places! Because, as they say, sometimes fate comes when you least expect it!”

She walked to the counter, gracefully ignoring Karmilla and Vexa. Two side orbs automatically pivoted toward the pretty boy, intuitively selecting the scene’s main character.

“Oh my god,” she whispered loudly enough for the whole bar, “it seems the universe has prepared a surprise for us! Sweeties, are you seeing this? Just like Titanic, only in space!”

“Pixie,” Vexa nodded with a colleague’s business politeness.

“Hi, girls!” Pixie waved, continuing to play for the camera. “How’s it going? Hope everyone’s looking for true love, not settling for substitutes!”

“Fine,” Karmilla answered tersely, feeling her jaw clench.

“Something natural for me,” Pixie said dreamily into the camera. “No chemistry or fakeness. Today only pure truth and genuine feelings!”

Dex smirked slightly, poured tap water and virtuously dropped one ice cube shaped like a heart.

“Symbolic!” Pixie raised the glass to the orb. “Exactly what my soul needed! Purity of intentions is the foundation of any real feeling!”

Karmilla felt her senses registering lies. Pixie smelled of synthetic pheromones, and her heartbeat betrayed calculation in every gesture.

Meanwhile, Vexa’s cocktail was starting to seriously affect Soren. The fake theatricality blurred, genuine interest appeared in his eyes. And it focused entirely on the blonde.

“Oh, beautiful creature!” Soren approached Pixie, but now there was real elegance in his movements. “I feel fate itself brought us together!”

“Me!?” Pixie nearly dropped her glass, the orbs instantly repositioned for a better shot. “You’re... you’re talking to me? Sweeties, watch! The script is just like Beauty and the Beast! Though he’s not a beast at all...”

“Of course!” Soren put his hand to his heart. “Such beauty can’t go unnoticed. Although...” he suddenly seemed slightly confused, “honestly, I didn’t expect to meet a real princess here.”

The chemistry forced him to be sincere, and it looked almost sweet.

He took her hand and kissed it in a theatrical gesture. Pixie blushed. The reaction was genuine, not for the camera.

“I... I never... I mean...” she tried to play the untouchable, but her eyes already betrayed hunting for new content. “Usually I don’t meet strangers! Especially such... cosmic ones!”

“Captain Soren,” he bowed. “And honestly, princess... I feel this isn’t a random meeting.”

Vexa, watching the developing situation, decided to expand the experiment.

“Pixie, I have something special for you too,” she pushed forward a pink glass with a straw and decorative umbrella. “Cocktail ‘Destiny.’ For those actively seeking it.”

“What is it?” Wary. There was too much history between them for simple gifts.

“Intuition enhancer,” Vexa smiled a predatory smile. “Helps recognize real princes among frogs. Though it might be... intense.”

Pixie took it, sniffed, took a cautious sip under the recording orbs. Then another. Then downed it in one gulp.

“Sweeties!” she addressed the orbs. “This drink... it’s like liquid inspiration! I feel the universe opening all its secrets to me!”

The reaction exceeded all expectations. Her eyes grew even bigger, cheeks flushed brighter, movements became more impulsive. Fatum hit her like a lightning strike.

“Oh my god!” Pixie grabbed Soren’s hand, orbs captured the moment. “Do you feel this incredible energy between us? This really is fate! True cosmic love!”

She pressed against him, practically hanging on his shoulder.

“Of course, princess,” Soren tried to gently free himself, but she held tight. “I also feel this... cosmic connection.”

“Followers!” Pixie exclaimed into the orbs. “Look! A real love story! I always knew fate would find me!”

But Soren was already looking over her head, first at Vexa, then at Karmilla. Fatum blurred the boundaries of common sense but sharpened instincts. In Karmilla’s cold indifference there was something that hooked him more than enthusiastic availability.

“Sorry, princess,” he carefully detached her fingers. “Need to... discuss something important with the locals.”

Pixie, not losing a beat, immediately turned to the orbs:

“Sweeties, did you see? Even space heroes can’t resist my charm! But a real princess always plays hard to get! It’s basic female psychology!”

Soren meanwhile headed toward Karmilla, trying to look casual.

“Would the beauty mind company from a real space adventure seeker?” But the bravado was gone from his voice. “Though... honestly, I’m not sure you’re looking for adventures.”

Karmilla looked up. Her gray eyes held enough sarcasm to freeze a comet.

“Depends on the quality of adventures. And the quality of the seeker.”

“Captain of the starship Fortune, explorer of unknown worlds,” he extended his hand, but without the previous theatricality. “Savior of princesses in my spare time. Though... maybe it’s time to try something new.”

Karmilla looked at the extended hand, let a tactical pause hang, and politely offered hers.

“Karmilla. I solve problems.”

“What kind of problems?” Interested, and the interest held genuine curiosity. “Navigation? Repairs? Pirates? Or something more interesting?”

“Problems that people like you create faster than they solve them,” but there was no anger in her voice. More like professional statement of fact.

Soren moved closer. He smelled of expensive cologne, but underneath, real male sweat. Not props.

“Baby, I’ve got my own ship, loyal crew, and reputation in three sectors,” but then suddenly faltered. “Though honestly... the crew ran off, the ship’s in hock, and the reputation... well, it’s complicated.”

Fatum forced him to be honest, and Karmilla felt unexpected interest. Finally, real substance.

“And what do you do with such problems, captain?”

“Looking for a new crew,” he looked at her seriously. “And new adventures. Maybe even real ones.”

Pixie, hearing this, turned from the orbs.

“Wait!” she shrieked. “Sweeties, look! This incredible space prince is my destiny, but this... this ice queen is trying to steal him!”

She jumped off the stool and approached Soren, hanging on him with her whole body.

“Soren, you feel our connection, right? The cosmos couldn’t bring us together for no reason! This is the classic true love scenario!”

Primitive mating rituals in action, Karmilla thought. But why did something inside her clench at this spectacle?

Vexa meanwhile poured from the same bottle for herself and downed it in one gulp.

“Damn, I really am a genius,” she exhaled blissfully, studying the trio. “Such beautiful chemistry between people.”

Fatum hit her brightly and fast. All the surrounding chaos transformed into a beautiful laboratory of human instincts.

“Princess, tell your viewers what a rush it is to meet a real space hero!” Soren suggested to Pixie, but his voice sounded strained.

“Oh yes!” Pixie turned to the orbs without releasing his hand. “Sweeties, you won’t believe it! It’s like a waking dream! A real space prince chose me!”

“And you, beauty,” Soren was already turning to Karmilla, “still think I’m not up to your standards?”

Karmilla didn’t answer, just took another sip. But her senses registered everything: how his pulse quickened when he looked at her, how his pheromone scent changed.

So Soren decided to try the third option.

“What do you think, genius?” He headed to the counter where Vexa was filling her glass with a promising smile. “Which of us will give in first in this game?”

“Oh, sweetie,” Vexa took a step toward him, velvet notes appearing in her voice. “You don’t even know what game you’re playing. But it’s so... exciting.”

“Baby,” Soren growled, savage notes appearing in his voice, “I’ll show you real adventures.”

“First prove you’re not just another boy playing space wolf,” Vexa ran a finger along his jacket.

He stepped right up to her. Vexa didn’t retreat. He grabbed her waist, she dug her nails into his shoulders. The kiss came out rough, almost vulgar.

“Cute,” Karmilla commented dryly, but something unpleasantly stabbed inside.

“Hey!” Pixie shrieked, throwing herself at the kissing pair. Cocktail “Destiny” had clearly added fighting spirit. “Hands off my space prince!”

She grabbed Vexa’s shoulder, trying to pull her away.

“Sweeties, watch me fight for true love! This is the classic battle of princess versus witch!”

“I run a decent place!” Dex tried to intervene.

But Vexa suddenly pushed Soren away and looked at him with frank disappointment:

“Weakling,” she stated with scientific objectivity. “Thought you were a real space wolf, but you’re just an ordinary puppy who barks louder than he can bite.”

“She’s right,” Karmilla nodded with icy contempt. “Pathetic pretender. Plays hero, but retreats at the first opportunity.”

Soren stood lost in the triangle, shifting his gaze between Pixie, Vexa, Karmilla. Fatum sharpened perception, and he suddenly saw himself through their eyes—a poser afraid of real challenges.

But in Karmilla’s and Vexa’s eyes wasn’t just contempt. Something whispered: “Prove we’re wrong. Become a real hero.”

Instead, he switched to the safe target.

“Princess,” he embraced Pixie by the waist, restoring his shaken confidence. “Sorry I got distracted. A real hero always protects his lady from jealous rivals.”

Pixie was ecstatic:

“I won!” She hung on him, addressing the orbs. “Sweeties, did you see? A real princess always wins! It’s the universe’s main law!”

Soren led her to the center of the hall under the mirror ball.

“Watch, sweeties!” Pixie broadcast. “True love conquers all rivals! And evil witches get nothing!”

Vexa took a sip of Fatum and winced slightly, watching the performance. With a quick glance she scanned Karmilla, and a second of silent understanding passed between them.

The fool chooses the easy path, Karmilla thought, finishing her cocktail. And why did that irritate her slightly? Probably the chemistry in her blood whispering this was only the beginning.

Soren was spinning with Pixie under the mirror ball, performing a cosmic waltz, when Dex materialized next to Vexa like a bad premonition. His movements were too sharp, the air smelled of sharp fear.

“Vexa,” he hissed, wiping a glass with manic intensity. “We’ve got problems. Spotted three law enforcement androids on level five. Heading this way.”

Vexa froze, the glass with Fatum remnants trembled almost imperceptibly in her hand.

“Seriously? Right now?” She laughed nervously.

“Need to get rid of the crate urgently,” Dex nodded toward the storage room. “If they find it...”

“Got it,” Vexa glanced at the dancing couple.

She was clearly calculating options at maximum speed. Vexa dashed to the storage room and returned with a small metal bag. She approached the table where Soren had left his jacket and carefully tucked the bag under it.

“Sorry, space hero,” she whispered. “But sometimes heroes have to carry others’ sins.”

Classic, Karmilla thought. Frame the loudest one.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Routine inspection,” Vexa’s hands trembled harder. “I hope.”

The bar’s door exploded with noise. Three figures in Station Security uniforms entered. Movements too synchronized, faces too perfect. Eyes glowed with scanners’ cold blue light.

Karmilla immediately sensed something off. Their electromagnetic fields had extra frequencies not characteristic of standard law enforcement droids.

“Establishment inspection,” the lead android announced in a voice devoid of all emotion. “Everyone stay where you are.”