Akiko blinked slowly, the dim lighting of the Driftknight's crew quarters coming into focus. Her head throbbed with a lingering echo of heat exhaustion and drained mana.

For a moment, she stayed still, letting the soft hum of the ship's systems anchor her.

She was alone.

The bunk straps held her gently, cocooning her in weightlessness.

No footsteps. No voices. Just the background murmur of life support and the faint sound of her own breathing.

A glance at the wall display confirmed it. They were still hours from de-orbit, but the others were likely already at their stations.

Akiko sighed. The memory of the EVA lingered, sharp and blistering. The desperate maneuvering. The searing heat. The way the shroud had locked down until she'd barely made it back.

She reached up, fingers brushing the mana necklace at her throat. The sapphire pulsed faintly beneath her touch, warm and steady.

It had saved her. And nearly destroyed her in the same breath. The price had been steep.

She clenched her jaw.

I cut the fuel line. Disrupted their systems. Got us free.

But the cost had nearly been her life.

She'd made it back on fumes, and only because Raya had been there to bring her back from the brink.

Her ears twitched.

Back home, she'd taken on bounty hunters and rival rogues. She knew how to fight. How to win. But here? She always felt behind. Like the rules changed faster than she could keep up.

The necklace gave her power, yes. But raw firepower only got her so far. It wasn't precision. It wasn't enough.

If I'm going to stand up to that thing, she thought, the memory of the entity's cold, hungry presence slipping into her thoughts, I need more than brute strength.

Her fingers curled into a fist. A flicker of heat stirred in her chest. Purpose.

Kaede always said I didn't plan ahead. That I jumped too fast.

She exhaled slowly. Well. Time to prove her wrong.

A flicker of light shimmered in her HUD. The familiar shape of Takuto, fox-shaped and quietly attentive. He gave a soft, digital yip.

Akiko smiled faintly.

"We're going to need more," she murmured. "More than just this necklace. More than raw power."

The avatar tilted its head, data trailing faintly across her vision. She ignored it for now, her mind already racing.

She needed to integrate. Adapt. Find ways to fuse her magic with this world's tech. Not just reacting, but shaping what came next. The necklace had been a start. Now she needed more.

With effort, she unfastened the bunk straps and pushed free. Her muscles ached, her tail drifting lazily behind her, but her thoughts were moving faster than her body.

Akiko floated toward the foot of her bunk, flipping open the small storage hatch. A few tools, some salvaged scrap. Pieces waiting to become something more.

She glanced at the door.

"No point in sitting here feeling sorry for myself."

She gave the necklace one last touch, then kicked off toward the corridor, the flicker of a plan forming behind her tired eyes.

She drifted through the corridors of the Driftknight. The stiffness in her limbs was undeniable. Her body still hadn't fully forgiven her for the heat exhaustion and mana burn.

Enough brooding. Time to rejoin the crew.

The low thrum of the bridge systems grew louder as she approached. When she slipped through the hatchway, Kara was already strapped into the command seat, jaw set in a hard line. Quinn lounged at the helm, hands resting lightly on the controls. Tanya hovered near the systems console, eyes locked on a slow-scrolling readout.

A clipped voice crackled over the comms, bureaucratic and unapologetic:

"Driftknight, your de-orbit request is acknowledged. Due to updated security protocols, all incoming vessels must undergo expanded screening. Please transmit a complete cargo manifest, crew roster, and purpose of visit to Helios Terminal."

Kara's fingers tapped the armrest, her voice calm but clipped. "We've already submitted our documentation. Twice. Unless you think we've smuggled an extra cargo bay in the last thirty minutes, I suggest you clear us through."

The voice didn't flinch. "These measures are for the safety of all Asharan residents. I'm sure you understand the need for thoroughness, given recent events."

Akiko caught the tail end of the exchange as she floated in and gripped a handhold near the wall. Kara looked professional as ever, but her posture was tight, the twitch in her jaw betraying strain.

"'Thoroughness,' my tail," Akiko muttered.

Tanya glanced over, smirking, but said nothing.

The memory of the Stygian attack still lingered, even if no one talked about it. Haven's story, outer colony terrorists, swift retaliation, sounded neat. Too neat.

What Akiko had seen back on the station told a different story.

She didn't know all the politics, not yet. But she understood fear when she saw it. Docking now meant tighter scans, longer questions, and a feeling that the walls were closing in. For a crew like the Driftknight's, that made every inspection a gamble.

Kara's voice dropped a notch, sharper now. "Helios Terminal Control, we're hauling mining components for Dome Seventeen's refit. If we're delayed any longer, their supervisors will want answers. And I'd rather not be the one explaining why their deliveries are late because someone up here is overreaching their mandate."

A pause followed. Brief, but heavy.

Akiko arched a brow. She couldn't help it. Kara's restraint had edge when she wanted it to.

The voice returned, a touch less rigid. "Understood, Driftknight. Maintain current position. Finalizing clearance."

The comms clicked off.

Silence followed.

Kara exhaled sharply and leaned back, tension bleeding from her shoulders in slow increments.

"That sounded fun," Akiko said, drifting closer.

"Not the word I'd use," Kara muttered. "These protocols are going to throttle half the system's traffic. And we're on the wrong side of every checkpoint."

"They're not protecting people," Tanya added from her console. "They're locking them in."

Akiko nodded. "Make the outer colonies look like villains. Consolidate control. Same story, different system."

Kara didn't respond right away. She stared out the viewport, jaw tight again.

"Let's just hope they don't decide we're worth making an example of," she said finally. Her fingers hovered over the console. "We'll wait for clearance. But stay sharp. If they start asking the wrong questions... we may need a less conventional descent."

Akiko grinned faintly. "You mean a crash landing?"

Kara's lips twitched, almost a smile. "Not unless we have to."

They waited in tense silence. The bridge was quiet, the ship's systems humming softly beneath the static-laced silence on comms. Kara's fingers tapped a steady rhythm on the console, her jaw tight as they waited for a reply.

Akiko perched near the back, watching her with a flicker of unease.

Something about the delay felt... deliberate.

Finally, the comms crackled to life.

"Driftknight, you are cleared to land. Proceed to Docking Bay 14-A."

A pause. Then, more pointedly: "You'll be subject to additional inspection upon arrival."

Kara's eyes narrowed. Her hand moved instinctively to mute the comms.

"Fourteen-A?" she muttered. "That's not a primary hub."

Quinn glanced up, brow raised. "So? Still a docking bay."

"No," Kara said flatly. "It's one of their secondary ports. The kind they use for extended inspections. Quiet ones."

Akiko's ears twitched. "So they're already suspicious."

Kara didn't answer right away. She unmuted the channel, voice calm, clipped.

"Operator, our cargo is time-sensitive. Redirecting to a secondary bay will add unnecessary delays. Is a main terminal available?"

The operator's reply was immediate. And ironclad.

"Docking Bay 14-A is equipped for inspections under updated protocols. Further deviation will require higher-level clearance, which may delay processing."

Kara muted the line again with a grimace. "They're not budging."

Akiko crossed her arms, tail flicking once. "So what's the plan? We can't exactly tell them to shove it."

"We land," Kara said. "Keep the story tight. And—" her gaze flicked pointedly toward Akiko's ears "—make sure there's nothing for them to find."

Akiko exhaled and reached inward. With a shimmer of light, her fox features faded, ears vanishing, tail gone, angular lines softening into a mundane human shape.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

It felt like erasing herself.

Kara studied the transformation. "That's a start. But your suit—" she gestured toward the sleek, polished armor wrapping Akiko's frame—"is another problem. It screams 'off-world tech.' Too clean. Too advanced."

Akiko looked down, frowning. The suit practically bonded to her. Too perfect to pass as drifted salvage. "You want me to wear one of those bulky hardsuits?"

"It's either that or you stay on board."

Akiko groaned, flinging her arms up as she pushed off toward the lockers. "Fine. I'll wear the fridge."

"Good," Kara said, turning back to the console. "Make sure it fits. We touch down in under an hour."

As Akiko floated out, muttering under her breath, Kara's voice followed, low and dry.

"If only it were that easy."

Akiko drifted into the locker alcove, spotting Lila hunched over a half-open toolbox, carefully slotting loose equipment into place. The faint clink of metal on metal echoed in the tight compartment as she worked with quiet focus.

"Hey, Lila," Akiko called softly.

Lila glanced up, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "Akiko. Shouldn't you be strapping in for descent?"

Akiko floated closer, catching a handhold. "Kara's orders. I need to swap this out—" She gestured at her sleek, rune-lined suit "—for something less... conspicuous."

Lila's gaze swept over her, one brow rising. "She's not wrong. That thing looks like it belongs in a corporate vault. Need a hand?"

Akiko hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

Lila pushed away from the toolbox and moved with ease toward the lockers, fingers drifting over the worn suits until she plucked one out. "This should fit. It's got history. And scratches to prove it."

Akiko floated nearby, fingers brushing the edge of her collar. "Let's get this over with."

The sapphire at her throat pulsed faintly. With a ripple, the suit folded inward, vanishing into the device with a whisper of motion. Akiko stood in her underclothes, exposed to the chill of the Driftknight's hull.

The temperature bite was immediate, but it was the vulnerability that hit harder. She wrapped her arms around herself instinctively, jaw tight.

"Whoa," Lila said softly. "Didn't think I'd ever see a suit do that."

Akiko looked away. "It's not standard issue."

Lila passed her the hardsuit with a gentler touch than usual. "Here. Before you freeze."

With Lila's help, Akiko wriggled into the bulkier gear. It was stiff, clunky, and smelled faintly of machine oil and recycled polymers.

The inner padding scratched at her skin, and the joints resisted with every movement, creaking like relics dredged up from a forgotten age. The suit had weight, not the kind gravity gave, but the kind of weight that settled in her limbs, slow and reluctant.

She tried to roll a shoulder. The plating fought her.

"How do people move in these?" she muttered, brow furrowed beneath the helmet rim.

"You get used to it," Lila replied with a wry smile. "Bit of a downgrade from your disappearing armor, though."

Akiko grimaced. She'd used Haven suits before back on the Sovereign. Streamlined, responsive, and tolerable, even if they didn't account for tails and ears.

This was worse. Every motion felt like swimming through syrup, a half-second lag between thought and response.

The contrast made her skin crawl. Her magitech suit had moved with her. No, as her. This thing barely seemed willing to cooperate.

Akiko gave her a look, but a grin tugged at the edge of her mouth. "You think?"

Lila patted her shoulder, the sound muted by metal on metal. "Just follow Kara's lead. Keep your head down. Try not to look like an alien shapeshifter."

"Because subtlety's my strong suit," Akiko muttered.

Lila chuckled, easing the tension. "Good luck out there, Akiko."

She didn't answer. Just nodded, turning toward the bridge where the others waited. The air was cooler there. Dry, sterile, humming with pre-burn checks. She caught the low thrum of the engines spooling and let the sound carry her thoughts away from Lila's concern, toward the weight ahead.

Quinn stood at the helm, silhouetted by the glint of the forward viewport. His hands moved with precision, flicking through final toggles like a practiced invocation. "De-orbit parameters locked. Engine primed. We're go for burn."

Kara didn't flinch, just nodded. "Strap in and hold tight. We're carrying more mass than usual. This ride's going to be rough."

Tanya gave a dry smile from behind the engineering console. "Especially with all the panel mods. Let's hope our work holds up under stress."

Akiko tightened her grip on the armrests of her couch, pulse ticking faster. "If it doesn't," she said, "we're going to make a very short crater."

Quinn flipped the ignition.

The ship lurched as the engines roared to life, the low rumble vibrating up through the deck. The Driftknight surged forward, pressed hard into its descent vector. Akiko felt the burn settle on her chest. Breath harder to catch, gravity reborn.

"Burn holding," Quinn reported, voice calm. "On course for Docking Bay 14-A."

"Keep it steady," Kara replied. "No surprises."

The bridge fell quiet. Just the hum of systems, the soft beep of diagnostics, and the low, rising pressure of descent.

Akiko's gaze drifted to the viewport. Ashara grew larger with every second, its rust-colored surface a web of industrial sprawl, domed cities glinting in the thin light.

Her gloved fingers flexed against the hardsuit restraints. It itched. It pinched. It reminded her of what she wasn't allowed to be right now.

This is just another job, she told herself. Another role. Play it right. Keep your head down. Walk away clean.

The burn eased. Pressure lifted from her chest. Kara's voice cut in:

"Burn complete. We're coasting in."

The ship groaned faintly as atmosphere kissed the hull.

"We're hitting upper layers," Kara warned. "Expect turbulence."

Akiko's fingers curled tighter. "Define 'turbulence.'"

Through the viewport, she caught the shimmer of friction: a faint, reddish glow bleeding across the ship's silhouette. Ashara's atmosphere. Thin, but still enough to make their velocity scream.

Then came the fire. A bright corona bloomed around the ship. Orange, yellow, streaking like ribbons of flame across the glass.

"Are we... on fire?" she asked, voice rising despite herself.

Tanya didn't look up. "Heat shield's doing its job. Atmosphere's like a brick wall at this speed."

The hull shook, rattling bolts and bones alike. Akiko's heart pounded. The Driftknight dipped slightly, then overcorrected.

"Hold it," Kara said, voice steel-flat.

"Got it," Quinn snapped, hands flying over the controls. "This isn't my first reentry."

Akiko forced her breath to slow. Plasma flared past the glass, white-hot fury. Her chest rose and fell with the strange rhythm of deceleration: not quite weightless, not quite crushed.

Gradually, the glow faded. Fire gave way to form. The domes of Ashara emerged. Massive, shimmering bubbles nestled in a sea of red dust and steel.

Akiko let out a breath. "Okay. That wasn't as bad as it looked."

"We're not down yet," Kara said. "Still need to stick the landing."

Akiko groaned. "So... explosions or not?"

Tanya smirked. "Only if Quinn gets bored."

"Don't tempt me," Quinn replied.

The Driftknight eased lower. Turbulence smoothed. Domes loomed larger, details resolving. Industrial conduits, docking arms, armored checkpoints.

"Bay 14-A in visual," Quinn said, voice tinged with relief. "Final approach locked."

Kara leaned back, steady now. "Let's bring her in clean."

Akiko stared out the viewport, watching the vast infrastructure of Ashara unfold beneath them. So much steel. So many stories.

So many chances for things to go wrong.

The Driftknight settled with a shudder, its landing struts groaning as they locked into place.

Akiko felt the vibration through her couch. A low tremor, then the slow inevitability of Ashara's gravity asserting itself.

It wasn't full weight, not like her old world, but it was enough to anchor her body. Enough to make every ache real again.

Her limbs felt heavier than they should have, like strength she'd taken for granted had drifted away, one breath at a time, in the silence between stars.

She dragged a breath into her lungs. Pushed the thought aside.

It had been a while since she'd stood on a planet, since she'd been ripped from her world and thrown into this one.

It would take time to reacclimate, but she would push through it.

Kara unbuckled smoothly and stood, stretching once to test the shift.

"All right," she said, turning toward Akiko with a measured look. "Here's the deal. Your cover is simple. You're from the outer colonies, and this is your first time dirtside. Play into it. Awe, confusion, whatever sells it. You've never been on a planet before."

Akiko unclasped her harness and pushed upright, wincing as her joints reminded her what real weight felt like.

Her balance caught, but only just. She steadied herself with a hand on the console.

"Never been on a planet?" she asked dryly. "What gave it away? My glowing personality or my general lack of subtlety?"

Kara didn't bite. She leaned against the console, arms folded. "Outer colonies have garbage records. No one will blink if your name's not in Ashara's system. But—" her gaze sharpened, "you'll need to register."

Akiko frowned. "Register? As in... official?"

"No way around it," Kara said, her tone flat. "If we want to offload cargo and make this stop profitable, you need to be in their system. Tarek's little side deal covers the costs of this run, but if we want a profit, we've got inventory to move."

Quinn twisted in his seat with a grin. "Think of it as your big debut. First contact with bureaucracy. Magical."

Akiko rolled her eyes and adjusted the hardsuit at her shoulders. The thing still didn't fit right. Like wearing a locker.

"Great," she muttered. "Looking forward to being fingerprinted and catalogued."

"You'll be fine," Kara said. "Just don't improvise. Stick to the story. Let the awe sell itself."

Akiko smirked. "If they ask about my background, do I tell them I was raised by smugglers or feral dogs?"

Kara was already moving toward the hatch. "Whichever makes you sound less interesting."

Akiko's smile faded as she followed. The idea of entering a new system's registry made her skin crawl. Questions meant attention. Attention meant risk.

But hiding wasn't an option anymore.

"Let's get this over with."

The corridor lights buzzed faintly as they passed, the low hum of the ship's systems giving way to something more sterile. Governmental. Bay 14-A loomed ahead, the sealed hatch already outlined with external security protocols. Akiko steeled herself.

The hatch hissed open.

The inspector stepped through with a deliberate stride, flanked by two subordinates in Asharan gray. His gaze swept the room, measured and sharp, like someone already expecting to be disappointed.

Behind him, his assistants moved with quiet efficiency, scanning crates and logging data. Their equipment chirped intermittently, each tone a soft reminder that every corner of the Driftknight was being catalogued.

He stopped in front of Kara, hands clasped behind a datapad. "Captain Kara Ellan," he said smoothly, voice polite but edged. "Dorian Kess, Asharan Customs. I trust you're prepared."

Kara stepped forward, offering her datapad. "Cargo manifest, fully documented. You'll find everything matches your registry."

Dorian took the device with a slight nod, scrolling through the manifest with swift, practiced movements. "Of course. I'd expect nothing less from someone with your reputation."

Akiko stood just beyond the main path, posture casual, eyes sharp. She kept her expression blank as Dorian's subordinates moved closer to the modified cargo panels.

The air in the bay felt thinner, every footstep and scan echoing a little too loud.

"You've done well to keep this vessel space worthy," Dorian continued, his gaze lifting from the datapad. "Old ships tend to reflect the character of their captains. This one seems... resilient."

"She gets the job done," Kara said flatly.

Dorian's lips quirked, though the smile never reached his eyes. "I imagine she's seen her share of unconventional repairs."

Kara didn't flinch. "Salvage work's our specialty."

"Mm. That explains it." He handed the datapad back. "I couldn't help noticing some... distinctive modifications on your drive cone. Not exactly standard issue."

Kara's tone remained even. "A salvage find. We refitted it from a decommissioned vessel out near the fringe. You'd be surprised what's left floating out there."

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "A bold undertaking. And a legal gray area, depending on where you found it."

"Outer colonies," Kara said with a shrug. "Plenty of wrecks. Few claims."

Dorian let the silence stretch. "Indeed. Fortune favors the bold."

His voice was mild, but Akiko saw the tension slip into Kara's stance, shoulders just a shade tighter.

Dorian turned. "Still, I'd like to see it up close."

Akiko's heart skipped.

The inspector moved toward the rear of the bay, stopping just short of the drive cone. The lighting here was harsher, more sterile, but it did little to conceal the faint shimmer of runic filaments woven into the plating.

Dorian leaned in, not touching, just watching. His head tilted slightly as he examined the etched lines.

"Intricate work," he murmured. "Almost elegant."

Akiko forced her arms to stay still, fingers twitching at her sides.

Stick to the plan, Kara had said. Don't draw attention.

Her pulse thundered in her ears.

Dorian tapped something into his datapad. Slowly. Thoughtfully.

Then he straightened, gaze lingering on the panel for a moment longer before turning back.

"Remarkable craftsmanship," he said. "You must have quite the engineering team."

Kara didn't miss a beat. "We make do."

Dorian's gaze flicked to Akiko, and her stomach dropped.

"And you," he said, voice light. Too light. "You must be part of this talented crew. Yet I don't see you in Ashara's records."

Akiko straightened, forcing a sheepish smile. "First time on a planet," she said, injecting a hint of nervous energy into her voice. "From the colonies. Records there aren't exactly... thorough."

"Ah," Dorian replied, smiling like he already knew better. "That explains it. We'll need to rectify that, of course. Registration is mandatory."

From the corner of her eye, Akiko caught Kara's subtle nod.

She stepped forward, posture straightening, voice steady. "Of course. Whatever you need."

Dorian raised his datapad and began entering her details, fingers gliding with mechanical precision. Akiko held her breath.

Then his expression shifted.

A faint furrow creased his brow. His eyes darted back to her, sharper now. Curiosity edged with something colder.

"Well now," he murmured. "It seems there's already a record tied to you. Fascinating."

Akiko's nails dug into her palms, but she kept her tone casual. "That's... odd. I didn't think I was in any system."

Dorian's smile didn't falter, but something crystalized behind those eyes. "It appears to be a Haven security communique. Redacted, unfortunately. But the association to your record was automatic. Very curious indeed."

A chill spidered down her spine. Of course Haven had flagged her. She just hadn't expected the flag to follow her to Ashara.

Dorian tapped once more, then tucked the datapad under his arm. "Given this complication, we'll need to finalize the details of your registration in my office. Standard procedure, of course."

Kara's jaw tightened. "Understood, Inspector. I'll send someone to accompany her."

"That won't be necessary," Dorian said, his gaze fixed squarely on Akiko. "I'll see to her return personally."

Akiko met Kara's eyes. Calm on the surface, but something in Kara's stance had shifted. Subtle tension drawn taut. Her expression said nothing.

But her eyes said: Play along.

Akiko offered a smile and stepped forward.

"Lead the way, Inspector."

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