The Foxfire Saga

Cassandra leaned against the cold bulkhead of the Iron Reclaimer camp, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she fought off the steady throb of a migraine.

The low hum of activity grated against her nerves. A constant reminder of the tenuous alliance they'd managed to cobble together.

Hayes's judgmental gaze burned into her back as he exchanged terse words with one of the Sovereign's marines. His hardline stance on Akiko's "freedom" had only grown sharper since her latest reveal.

A fresh thorn in Cassandra's side, especially when she didn't fully trust Akiko herself.

But what choice did she have?

Akiko was chaos incarnate, yes, but chaos with results. Without her insights and her uncanny ability to survive situations that should have killed her, they'd still be stumbling in the dark.

Evelyn's face surfaced in her thoughts. Her chest tightened.

This wasn't just about protocol, or Sovereign chain of command. This was about finding Evelyn. About stopping the entity. About getting her people home alive.

If that meant tolerating Akiko's volatility, so be it.

Still, the weight of compromise was a familiar, unwelcome pressure. She was balancing a razor's edge: Akiko's brilliance on one side, Hayes's rigid discipline on the other, and the safety of her crew resting squarely in the middle.

Her headache flared again. She rubbed her temples.

Then, laughter. Subdued, but distinct.

Her eyes snapped open.

She scanned the camp with practiced sharpness. Off in a shadowed corner, outside the bustle, she spotted Mark Weston and Lila Corson.

At first, it looked innocuous. Just two people talking. But Cassandra had worked alongside Mark for long enough to recognize the tells.

His posture was angled away from the camp, shielding their exchange. Lila's gestures were sharper, more insistent. Mark's body language screamed discomfort. Defensive.

Something was wrong.

What are you hiding, Weston?

Lila leaned in. Her expression was hard to read in the dim light, but Mark's reply was unmistakably clipped. Almost... pleading.

Cassandra's brow furrowed. She pushed off the wall.

"Keep an eye on things here," she said over her shoulder.

Hayes turned, frowning. "Where are you going?"

"To deal with something," she replied, already walking.

She approached Mark and Lila with a deliberate calm, her steps even, her face carefully arranged into something neutral but approachable.

As she neared, she saw Lila's hands drop to her sides, gestures fading into stillness. Mark stiffened like someone bracing for recoil.

"Well," Cassandra said with a faint smile, "this is a pleasant sight. The Sovereign and the Reclaimers working together. Exactly what we hoped for, isn't it?"

Mark gave a quick nod, lips pressed into a tight line.

"That's the idea," he said. Polite. Flat.

Lila's smile was more genuine, if a bit uncertain. "We've known each other a long time," she offered, glancing at Mark. "Mark's always been good at—"

"Lila," Mark cut in, voice sharp and quiet.

His eyes flicked toward Cassandra. His smile returned, but it was strained.

"We've crossed paths," he amended. "That's all."

Cassandra tilted her head, smile still faint. Crossed paths. Diplomatic phrasing. But Lila either missed the signal or ignored it.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Come on, Mark," she said with a laugh. "You're making it sound like we barely know each other. We've been through plenty. Long before the Sovereign."

Mark's jaw clenched. "Lila," he said again, voice firmer. "That's enough."

Cassandra's tone stayed light. "Interesting," she said, eyes sharp. "It's good to know there's familiarity here. Makes collaboration much easier, don't you think?"

Lila hesitated, eyes darting between them. "Yeah," she mumbled, suddenly fascinated by her boots.

Mark's shoulders were rigid. "We're keeping things professional," he said, clipped.

"I appreciate that," Cassandra replied smoothly. "After all, we're all working toward the same goal. We can't afford to let... personal connections cloud our judgment."

She let her gaze linger on Mark a beat longer than necessary.

Mark cleared his throat. "If there's nothing else, Lieutenant..."

"Carry on," Cassandra said, stepping back. "And Mark? Keep up the good work."

He gave a curt nod and turned away, his retreat just short of a march.

Cassandra looked at Lila for a moment longer. She gave the woman a quiet nod. Reassuring, but firm.

Then she turned, walking back into the camp.

Whatever Mark Weston was hiding, she intended to drag it into the light.

As she left the two of them behind, Cassandra's mind churned.

Lila's slip had been small, but it was telling.

Long before the Sovereign.

Those words, paired with Mark's obvious discomfort, painted a picture that didn't quite fit with what she knew about him.

Mark had always been steady, loyal, and by the book. But this? This hinted at something deeper. Something hidden.

She didn't have all the pieces yet, but she'd laid the groundwork.

Whatever Mark was hiding, he'd think twice before letting it slip further. If nothing else, the tension she'd sown might make him easier to manage. Or, at the very least, more cautious.

Her eyes swept the camp as she moved. Reclaimers, Sovereign crew, scattered clusters of tension held together by thin strands of shared purpose.

Kara stepped into her path. The Iron Reclaimers' leader wore her usual no-nonsense demeanor, but her sidelong glance toward Mark and Lila betrayed a flicker of curiosity.

"Something I should be concerned about?" she asked, voice low and firm.

Cassandra met her gaze evenly. "Not yet," she said. "Just keeping an eye on things. We've both got enough to deal with without letting minor distractions derail the mission."

Kara tilted her head. "Minor distractions have a way of becoming major ones if you're not careful. I don't have time for infighting. I'm guessing you don't either."

"Agreed," Cassandra said curtly. "Whatever it is, it's my responsibility. You focus on your team. I'll handle mine."

Before Kara could press further, something shifted. A sensation, subtle at first. Like a faint vibration in the air.

Then stronger.

Cassandra froze.

It wasn't something she could describe. Not sound. Not heat. More like a pulse. A ripple of static, brushing not just skin but thought, like the station exhaling through the bones of the crew.

Kara stiffened beside her. "What the hell was that?" she muttered, one hand moving instinctively toward her sidearm.

Cassandra scanned the camp. Sovereign marines were already on alert, Hayes barking orders, posture sharp, but even he looked unsettled.

Then, Akiko. Standing a few meters away, ears twitching, tail flicking behind her. Every line of her posture sharpened.

Cassandra crossed the space between them quickly. "What are we dealing with?" she asked, voice low and urgent.

Akiko didn't answer immediately. She tilted her head, as if listening to something beneath the audible.

"Magic," she said finally. "Something... big. It's like the station is waking up. And it's not happy."

As if summoned by the words, a low rumble shivered through the floor.

The walls of the camp groaned, faintly shuddering. Reclaimers froze in place. Several went pale.

The lights flickered.

A clang rang out. Metal striking metal somewhere in the upper levels. The sound echoed through the complex like a warning bell.

Kara cursed under her breath. "That came from above."

"We don't have time for this," Cassandra muttered. She turned to Hayes. "We move. Now."

Hayes nodded grimly, already motioning for his marines to form up. Kara turned sharply, shouting to her people. Snapping orders, barking logistics, reasserting control with every word.

Cassandra turned back to Akiko. "If you've got any insight, now's the time."

Akiko's eyes narrowed. Her ears twitched. She stood very still.

"It's reacting," she said finally. "To something, or someone. We need to move deeper before it decides to come to us."

The camp erupted into motion. Reclaimers packed gear with frantic efficiency. Supplies were stripped down to essentials. Cables yanked free. Foldable structures collapsed into transport form.

Kara's voice rang out across the camp. Steady, commanding. Her crew moved with purpose, loose organization barely holding together under the stress.

Cassandra's gaze swept the crowd.

She caught sight of Raya near the staging area, eyes fixed on Akiko. Tension coiled in the girl's shoulders. Half a step toward movement. Half a breath from disobedience.

Before she could act, Kara's gaze caught her. Nothing was said. But Raya faltered. With a quiet sigh, she turned and walked toward the medical tent, shoulders slumping.

Cassandra's eyes followed her for a moment, then returned to Kara, who approached with brisk, deliberate steps.

"Whatever's going on up there," Kara said, jerking her chin toward the upper levels, "good luck."

She offered the faintest smirk. "We'll be around. Assuming there's salvage left after the fireworks."

Cassandra met her eyes. "We'll handle it."

Kara's expression was impossible to read. Calculation and detachment sharpened into command. She nodded once, then turned, snapping another volley of orders.

The Reclaimers surged into motion again. Moving fast, but not in panic. Just prepared.

Cassandra turned to her team.

Akiko stood by a support strut, tail curling absently, eyes half-closed in some internal conversation. Hayes loomed nearby, still on edge. Weston watched the corridors. Tense, distracted, but not checked out.

They were as ready as they'd ever be.

"Let's move," Cassandra said, voice slicing clean through the noise.

Akiko looked up, met her gaze.

Cassandra nodded once.