The Sovereign loomed ahead, massive and resolute, its sleek silhouette a shard of stability against the void. Akiko propelled herself forward, Evelyn's unconscious form cradled in her arms. Behind her, the thunder of the entity's frigate still echoed. Distant, but relentless.

The bay it had escaped from was gone, collapsed in on itself. And now?

The frigate was climbing fast. Its fusion drive glowed hot, lighting up the dark with promise and threat. A flood of drones spilled from its underbelly, fanning out in tight formation.

"Incoming threats," her AI warned, the HUD flaring with red markers as several drones closed fast.

"I noticed," she muttered, adjusting her fox-fire to maximize maneuverability. The stolen mana still thrummed inside her. Foreign, unstable, but unmistakably alive. It kept her moving even as her muscles begged for rest.

Then a familiar voice slipped into her comms.

"Nice moves out there, fox," Kara's voice drawled. Measured, calm, with that ever-present edge. "Didn't think anyone would escape from that deathtrap solo."

Akiko huffed. "Not exactly alone," she shot back, glancing toward Evelyn's vitals still steady in her HUD. Her tone was sharp, but there was relief buried in it.

"You've got talent," Kara continued. "But talent only gets you so far when Haven starts paying attention."

Akiko narrowed her eyes, weaving through scattered debris as two drones swept closer.

"This really the time for a heart-to-heart?" she snapped. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of busy."

"Fair," Kara said smoothly. "But think about this: sure, you're making it out. This time. But when Haven Command finds out what you've been up to? You think they'll thank you? Or start poking around, just to see how you tick?"

Akiko's stomach twisted.

The Sovereign had treated her... not great. Cassandra had been her captor turned uneasy ally. Hayes had wanted to kill her from the moment her disguise fell. Ethan and Anna had been kind. But Haven wasn't just the Sovereign.

And Kara was right: Haven Command wouldn't see her as a survivor.

They'd see her as a liability.

"A place where you can be yourself," Kara said, quieter now. "No chains. No interrogations. Just a bunch of misfits who aren't trying to survive for someone else. Just trying to survive. Together."

The hangar bay of the Sovereign swelled in her vision. Wide open, ringed with gunmetal and light. A symbol of safety. Of containment.

Hayes. The cuffs. The cold suspicion that never quite faded.

Even Cassandra, for all her pragmatism, played by someone else's rules.

Akiko adjusted her grip on Evelyn.

"Didn't think you trusted innies," she muttered.

"Trust is earned, not given," Kara replied. "But you? You've got potential. And out here, potential's all we've got."

A drone veered too close.

Akiko twisted, firing her mining laser in a short burst. The beam cut through the drone's shield, sending it spiraling into the void.

Kara's voice returned, quieter. "Besides, you're not exactly one of them. But, you don't have to decide now. Just think about it. Offer stands."

Akiko let out a shaky breath.

The hangar glowed brighter. The Sovereign's defensive batteries lit up the dark, carving drones from the sky. She pushed harder, Evelyn's weight dragging at her limbs.

"I've got my hands full," she murmured. "But... thanks."

"Stay alive, fox," Kara said. "That's all I'm asking."

The comms cut, leaving behind only the hiss of proximity alarms and the steady, reassuring pulse of Evelyn's vitals.

Then—

"Ensign Tsukihara," a new voice snapped into her comms, calm and unmistakable.

Akiko winced.

Captain Ward. Of course.

"Am I correct in assuming you're responsible for that lightshow?"

Akiko groaned. "Yeah. That was me. And I've got Evelyn. She's alive, but out."

There was a pause. Just long enough for Akiko to imagine a reprimand forming.

Then:

"Understood. Keep your distance from the frigate. We're engaging now. Hangar bay is open. Approach carefully."

Akiko shifted her fox-fire output, adjusting course. "Careful's my middle name."

"Is it?" Ward replied, without missing a beat. "I would've guessed 'reckless.' But it's none of my business. Just don't give me another headache. Sovereign out."

The comms snapped off.

Akiko sighed and looked down at Evelyn's pale face.

"No pressure, right?" she muttered.

The Sovereign grew larger in her vision, gunfire flashing along its hull as it held the line. Akiko adjusted her grip, gritted her teeth, and pushed forward.

"Almost there," she whispered. "Just a little further."

Akiko darted into the hangar bay, fox-fire flickering weakly beneath her boots as the last traces of stolen mana sputtered out inside her.

She landed hard, Evelyn cradled tight against her chest. The mining laser on her arm hung like an anchor, dragging her down. She stumbled, then straightened, forcing her legs to lock and her spine to hold.

She couldn't show weakness. Not here. Not with them watching.

The Sovereign's hangar bay buzzed with activity, muffled through her suit's comms. Cassandra was already disembarking from her transport, eyes sweeping the chaos with clinical efficiency.

Near the airlock, a medical team in matching pressure suits surged toward Akiko, a hovering gurney gliding beside them.

Behind her, the hangar doors groaned shut, sealing off the void. A faint hiss signaled atmosphere flooding back into the chamber.

Cassandra's gaze snapped to her.

Her pace quickened. By the time the medics reached Akiko, Cassandra was only a step behind.

"Ensign," she said over comms, voice crisp, unreadable. Her eyes flicked once to the mining laser strapped to Akiko's arm, then settled on Evelyn. "You made it."

Akiko's chest heaved. "Yeah, well," she muttered, thrusting Evelyn toward the medics, "I wasn't exactly planning on dying today."

The medics worked quickly, easing Evelyn onto the gurney, running scans, securing restraints. Professional. Efficient.

Cassandra didn't flinch.

"The frigate?"

Akiko shifted the laser's weight, letting it hang conspicuously.

"Still out there," she said. "It's got a drone screen tying up your guns and who knows what other weapons up its sleeve."

Cassandra nodded grimly. "Captain Ward's directing the engagement. We're regrouping now to address it."

Hayes stepped into view, voice sharp through the comms.

"And what about that?" He gestured toward the mining laser. "You expect us to ignore the fact that you're walking around armed with alien tech?"

Akiko's jaw tensed.

She met his gaze evenly. "Relax. If I wanted to use it on you, you'd be easy target practice. But I haven't, and I won't. So back off."

Hayes looked ready to snap back, but Cassandra raised a hand.

"Enough. We don't have time for this."

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Her attention shifted back to Akiko.

"Now what?"

Akiko gave her a tired smile. Thin, crooked, and edged with something harder. "Now?" she echoed. "Now I wait for the next thing trying to kill us. Seems to be the theme."

Behind her, the hangar continued its slow stabilizing pressurization. A final chime echoed, signaling full atmosphere restored.

Cassandra reached up and unsealed her helmet. The hiss of air was quiet, but in Akiko's ears, it sounded like judgment. Cassandra tucked the helmet under her arm, expression unreadable.

Whatever she was thinking, Akiko didn't care. Not right now.

Her gaze drifted back toward the laser on her arm. Heavy. Inert. The last of the entity's mana that had been powering it was drained. But they didn't know that.

She saw the way Cassandra had looked at it. The flicker of calculation.

Let them guess.

If things went south again, maybe she could use that.

Because one thing was certain: whether it was the Sovereign or Haven or anything else:

She wasn't going back in chains.

Not again.

The corridors felt narrower as she walked, like the ship was waiting to see what she'd become.

She stepped into the Sovereign's medical bay, her gait unsteady under the ship's return to thrust gravity. Each evasive maneuver from the main drive sent a subtle jolt through the floor, tugging at her balance. She adjusted instinctively, still not fully trusting her footing.

In the corner of her HUD, her AI's fox form flickered. Tail swishing, expression almost playful. A faint yip echoed through her thoughts, like encouragement. Maybe it was real. Maybe it was just what she needed to hear.

Either way, she'd take it.

The med bay was alive with quiet efficiency. Dr. Sarah Calloway was already hunched over Evelyn, hands deft and focused.

She peeled back the layers of the suit that had sealed the navigator in since the station, revealing pale skin, shallow breaths, a fragile presence tethered to life by threads.

Calloway didn't look up. But her voice carried.

"Akiko. I assume you have a reason for barging in?"

Akiko didn't flinch. She moved closer, eyes fixed on Evelyn.

Her heart ached. She tapped the back of her neck, fingers brushing the device nestled there.

"I've got something she's missing," she said quietly. "Figured now's as good a time as any to give it back."

Calloway's hands stilled. Her sharp gaze snapped to Akiko. "Explain."

Akiko exhaled slowly. "Long story," she muttered, pressing her thumb to the connector. The device hummed softly under her skin. "Short version? I've got a... piece of her in here. Soul, consciousness, whatever you want to call it. My... friend says it's safe to return it. But it's gonna be complicated."

Calloway's face didn't shift. But something in her eyes softened, curiosity replacing skepticism.

"And how exactly do you plan to do that without killing her, or yourself?"

Akiko's lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. "Good thing I've got a helping hand." She tapped her HUD, where the fox avatar yipped once, tail twitching like it was in on the plan.

She knelt beside Evelyn, hand resting lightly on the other girl's shoulder. Her fingers trembled.

The fox flickered closer in her vision. The yip this time felt more like a nudge.

Her HUD pulsed.

DIRECT CONNECTION REQUIRED. DISENGAGE? Y/N

Akiko stared at the prompt. Her mouth went dry.

"Disengaging this means I lose everything," she murmured. "HUD, suit sync, AI... I'm flying blind."

Calloway crouched beside her, steady. "You're saying Evelyn's in there?" Her voice wasn't accusatory. Just... focused.

Akiko nodded. "A fragment, yeah. If I do this right, she gets it back. But once I take it off... no safety net."

Calloway studied her. Then nodded. "Alright. Show me how to help."

Akiko blinked. She hadn't expected that. No pushback. No argument. Just calm, competent presence.

"I'll need you to hold it steady on her neck," Akiko said. "It'll lock in on its own. But the process might get... weird."

Calloway raised an eyebrow. "I've seen weird. Let's do it."

Akiko reached for the device, fingers trembling. The moment she twisted it free, her world dimmed.

The HUD vanished. The AI's presence flickered out like a dying flame.

Her suit went limp.

Her breath caught as the air around her felt colder, heavier. Her face shield flickered, then failed. She inhaled sharp, instinctive panic. Still, she held the device steady.

"Here," she said softly, handing it over. "Base of her neck. Just under the hairline."

Calloway took it without hesitation. She reached for a sterile wipe from her kit, cleaned the device in a single practiced motion. No hesitation, no flourish. Then she slid it into place with steady hands.

For a moment, nothing.

Then: a soft chime. Blue light rippled out across Evelyn's skin. Gentle at first, then growing brighter. Her body shivered. Her eyes flickered beneath closed lids.

Akiko's chest tightened. Her fingers itched to take the device back. To feel that tether, that warmth, that self return.

But she held.

The light pulsed. Evelyn's breathing deepened.

"Vitals are stabilizing," Calloway murmured, awe threading into her voice. "Whatever this is... it's working."

The glow faded. The device detached on its own, clinking softly against the med bed.

Akiko snatched it up without hesitation and turned it toward her neck.

Calloway caught her wrist, firm but not harsh. "Wipe it first. You're not jacking raw spinal fluid between hosts."

Akiko blinked, then flushed. She grabbed one of the wipes from Calloway's kit and cleaned the interface with shaky fingers.

"Now," Calloway said gently. "Go ahead."

Akiko pressed the device to her neck. The connection surged. Pain, light, but also identity.

Her HUD snapped back online. Her AI's presence surged to meet her like breath drawn too deep, too fast. But it was her breath. Her tether. Hers again.

Akiko exhaled, shaky.

Evelyn stirred. Her eyes opened. Slow, unfocused, but alive. She turned her head just slightly, lips parting.

Akiko leaned in, her voice soft.

"Take it easy, Navigator. You're back."

Calloway checked her vitals again, her movements careful.

"She'll need rest," the doctor said, her tone gentling. "But she's out of the woods."

Akiko's hand didn't leave Evelyn's shoulder. She didn't say it aloud. But she thought it.

I promised I'd come for you.

Akiko stepped out of the med bay and paused as she spotted Cassandra waiting just outside, arms crossed and posture taut. The officer's sharp gaze locked onto her, scanning the lingering traces of fox-fire that clung faintly to her skin like an afterimage of adrenaline.

Cassandra straightened. "The captain wants you on the command deck."

Her tone was clipped, professional, but the irritation beneath it was obvious.

Akiko arched a brow. "Guess I'm the most popular girl on the ship today."

Before Cassandra could answer, the Sovereign shuddered beneath their feet.

The lights flickered, plunging the corridor into a rapid-fire strobe of red and shadow.

Akiko's hand shot out to catch the wall, her claws scraping a faint line into the paneling. Cassandra stumbled, caught herself on a support rail.

"The frigate?" Akiko asked, voice low and sharp as the tremor rolled through the hull again.

Cassandra's jaw tightened. "The entity's putting up a fight. Harder than we planned for."

Another jolt. Somewhere deep in the ship, something groaned.

"You'd better hope whatever this is about is worth it," Cassandra added. "Because we're running out of time."

Akiko didn't quip back.

The lights steadied, but the tension didn't. Akiko nodded once.

"Lead the way, then."

Cassandra turned briskly, walking with practiced steadiness despite the ship's lurching underfoot. Akiko followed, the heavy weight of the mining laser dragging against her arm like a reminder. Her earlier momentum, her defiance, her fire, was dimming fast.

This wasn't over. And whatever Ward wanted, it wasn't going to be praise.

The command deck pulsed with low-level chaos.

Crew moved fast but focused, voices sharp over open comms. The lighting was dim, punctuated by glowing display panels and the amber flicker of damage alerts. The floor vibrated with each distant cannon salvo.

Captain Ward sat at the center of it all, calm and still in her command chair. The image of discipline carved from steel.

Ethan looked up from his console as they entered. His gaze lingered for a beat on the mining rig still clamped to Akiko's arm, but he said nothing, returning immediately to his maneuvering readouts.

Ward turned her chair as they approached and gestured to the primary screen. "Take a look."

Akiko stepped closer.

The main display showed the unfolding battle in brutal clarity.

The Sovereign's railguns fired in steady rhythm, pounding against the enemy's swarm. Drones vaporized under concentrated fire, but more replaced them, and the system was clearly straining. The frigate hovered beyond. Distant, untouched, its shields flaring with each impact but refusing to crack. Even the main cannon barrages were bouncing off.

"The Iron Reclaimers are doing what they can," Ward said, gesturing to a small marker darting through the edge of the battle. Kara's ship, weaving between drone clusters to harry their formation.

"But the frigate's pushing us back. Its shields are holding. We're outgunned, outpaced, and almost out of options."

Her eyes flicked back to Akiko. "Unless you've got something that'll get us through those shields."

Akiko's tail flicked once, the motion restrained.

"I don't," she said. "That fight in the station took everything I had."

Ward didn't flinch. But the disappointment radiating from the deck crew was almost physical.

Another tremor rocked the ship. Sparks burst from a rear console. A tech scrambled to reroute power, shouting over the noise.

"Hull integrity at sixty percent!" someone called.

"Shift reinforcement grids," Ward ordered. "Midsection first, then dorsal plate. Get damage control teams moving."

Akiko leaned toward Cassandra, her voice low. "So, uh... you got a plan?"

Cassandra didn't look away from the screen. "You'd better hope Ward or Kara does. If we don't break through soon, this fight's already lost."

Akiko turned her eyes back to the frigate.

Its drive plume glowed brighter now. Slowly boosting away, continuing its barrage even as it gained distance. It didn't need to rush. It was bleeding them dry.

She gripped a nearby support rail, her knuckles white as the Sovereign rocked again. Another barrage. Another breath stolen from the ship's lungs. The lights flickered overhead, casting strobing shadows across the bridge. Muted alarms throbbed beneath the voices of the crew, and damage reports cascaded across the main screen in a wash of red.

Every railgun burst felt like a defiant gasp, but the Sovereign was running out of air.

Then, silence. The incoming barrage ceased.

The enemy frigate loomed across the screen, unmoving, its dark hull illuminated by the faint glow of its aft maneuvering thrusters. Its eerie blue runes pulsed now. Slow, steady, rhythmically as if the ship itself were drawing breath.

The light spilled outward across the void, crawling through the debris field like veins.

Predatory.

"What is it—" Ward began, rising from her chair.

She never finished.

The frigate's main drive cut out. For a heartbeat, the ship hung perfectly still.

Then it vanished. Transformed in a blink into a streak of impossible light. It shot across the void, trailing a blinding white arc that lingered like a comet's tail, etched across Akiko's vision even after it was gone.

She staggered, heart lurching. Her stomach twisted with a sudden, nauseating sense of wrongness.

Ethan broke the silence first, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What... the hell was that?"

Around the command deck, no one moved. No one spoke.

Akiko stared at the empty space on the screen, her mind racing to catch up.

"It's like it... blinked away," she said quietly. "Ships don't do that, right?"

"Not ours," Cassandra said, voice tight. Her eyes hadn't left the screen.

Akiko frowned. "So what was that?"

Ethan finally turned from his console, face pale. "FTL," he said. "Faster-than-light travel."

The words meant little on their own, but the weight in his voice drove the point home.

"That's not real," Akiko said, slowly. "Is it?"

"It wasn't," Ethan replied. "We've studied it for decades, and never got close. It's not just out of reach, it's not supposed to work."

"But it just did," Cassandra said grimly.

Captain Ward stood still at the center of the deck, her silhouette framed by the slowly flickering emergency lights. She didn't raise her voice, but when she spoke, every head turned.

"It can outmaneuver us. Outpace us. Strike wherever it wants," she said. "And we can't follow."

Her words dropped like lead.

Akiko's hands tightened on the rail.

On the station, the entity had been dangerous, but cornered. Desperate.

Now? It was free. Free to regroup. Free to grow stronger. Free to pick its next target and arrive before anyone could stop it.

Cassandra's voice cut through the silence.

"It's not retreating. It's regenerating. And we just gave it time to plan."

Akiko swallowed hard. The tension that had filled her during the battle didn't leave.

It just... shifted. No longer fear of being destroyed. Now it was fear of being left behind.

Because whatever that thing was...

It was coming back.

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