The Foxfire Saga

The noise that woke Akiko was subtle. A vibration more than a sound, felt in her teeth and the floor plates beneath her boots.

Her eyes snapped open, claws already flexing as she twisted out of the mech's cockpit, landing hard on the crusted snow outside. Foxfire flared at her fingertips, eager to burn.

It was only then that she registered the low whine of engines. Not the cold, hollow wind of Zephara. Not Haven's sleek precision. A deeper rumble, familiar in a way that made her gut twist.

Akiko surged up the shallow incline, kicking up powder as she crested the ridge of the crater where the mech lay half-buried. Her breath steamed in sharp bursts. Her eyes narrowed.

A squat shape lumbered across the flats, wide tires crunching through drifts. The boxy frame of Vashri's salvage transport.

Akiko's heart slammed against her ribs. She bared her teeth, tails lashing the air behind her.

The transport rolled to a slow stop, engines dropping into a low idle that vibrated through the ice. A moment later the main hatch swung open, and cold light spilled out across the frost.

Vashri emerged first, hands raised in a placating gesture, his breath fogging heavy around a face set with grim resolve. Behind him, Sera stepped down, scanning the horizon with guarded caution. Then Maevi, eyes bright, practically bouncing in place. And Roran, looming at the rear, wary but not openly hostile.

Akiko didn't move. She let the foxfire gather around her shoulders, a silent, savage halo. Just enough to be a warning.

Vashri paused a good ten paces out. His voice was rough, but level. "Easy there. We're not here to fight you."

Akiko's claws flexed. Her ears pinned back, every instinct screaming to drive them away. To protect the fragile quiet she'd carved out around Raya.

"And why are you here?" she growled, voice raw.

Vashri exhaled, long and misty. He glanced at his crew, then back to her.

"Because after that chaos back at the Hold… we didn't see much left worth sticking around for. Figured we'd take our chances out here. With you."

Maevi edged forward, grin tight with nerves, hands fidgeting with her suit seals. "Also, uh… you kinda stole our mystery. Micro-fusion core? Half-buried mech? Couldn't let that go. Nothing gets between a tech-rat and her questions."

Akiko stared at them. At these battered scavengers who'd somehow decided to follow a fox-shaped storm out into the ice. Her heart twisted in a way she wasn't ready to name.

She didn't answer them. Didn't nod, didn't beckon. Just turned and stalked back down into the hollow where the mech crouched in its bed of wind-scoured ice, its cockpit still cracked open to shelter Raya's fragile body.

She dropped to one knee beside Raya, one clawed hand resting lightly on the rim of the hatch. Her eyes didn't stray far from the slow rise and fall of Raya's chest. Even now, every stutter of breath kept Akiko's heart trapped somewhere in her throat.

Footsteps crunched overhead. Then Maevi's voice, bright with awe and the thin edge of disbelief.

"Gods below… you weren't kidding. That's a full chassis. No way this got assembled out here."

Akiko's tails twitched low, the fur of her tail bristling with restrained tension. "Watch yourself. That's not a toy, tech-rat. It's dangerous."

Maevi only grinned wider, half-terrified and half-thrilled. "Isn't that half the fun?"

Sera and Vashri picked their way down the slope more carefully, boots sinking into shallow drifts. Sera's eyes swept the hollow, maybe checking lines of sight, maybe just being cautious. The kind of thing Akiko might've respected, normally. But not right now. She just logged it and kept track of where everyone was.

Vashri let out a long breath, steam rolling from his lips. "Well… looks like you found yourself a throne, fox."

Akiko didn't dignify that with a reply. Her tails curled tight around her hips, her eyes narrowed and watchful.

Sera knelt by a rise of fractured ice, rapping her knuckles against it thoughtfully. "We've got more than enough scrap and paneling back on the rig to start throwing together a proper enclosure. Seal it, pressurize it. Means we're not burning through suit resources every hour we're topside."

"And keeps this little treasure from catching eyes it shouldn't," Vashri added, nodding at the mech.

The irony wasn't lost on Akiko. Just a night ago she'd written off the idea of building anything permanent out here. It wasn't home. Couldn't be. But with Raya lying so still beside her, and the crew scattering to take measurements and mark distances, it hit her in a way she didn't want to examine.

Maybe there was some twisted sense to it. A fortress in the cold. Somewhere the world couldn't quite claw them out.

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Akiko's claws tapped restlessly against the metal rim of the cockpit. Watching. Waiting. Guarding.

Maevi was the first to peel away, practically vibrating with purpose as she hustled back toward the transport. "Need that core uncrated! And the fabricator staged closer. We're not hauling half-finished wall segments across the bloody ice!"

Even through the filter distortion, her excitement was infectious. Sera and Roran fell in to help without hesitation, their suited figures small and purposeful against the looming ribs of the mech.

Vashri didn't bother arguing, just muttered something dry over the channel and hauled crates out of storage with practiced ease. Metal on metal clanked through the thin air, punctuating Maevi's rapid-fire suggestions.

Akiko only half-listened. Words like "expansion lattice," "secondary sealants," and "gasket extrusion runs" meant little next to the quiet rasp of Raya's breathing. Her own breath stayed trapped somewhere tight and cold in her chest.

Then a new presence knelt by her side. Jyn's steps were light. She didn't crowd Akiko, just settled on her haunches near the cockpit's lip, her gloved hands already moving with professional economy as she cracked open her kit.

Akiko's eyes narrowed. Her tails twitched.

Jyn gave her a small, steady look. "Easy. Just checking her over. Not trying to take her from you."

Akiko didn't relax. But she didn't stop her, either. That was concession enough.

Jyn leaned in, murmuring reassurances that were probably meant more for herself than for unconscious ears.

Seconds stretched. Akiko felt each one like a blade across her nerves.

Then, a faint shift. A tiny sound. Raya's eyes cracked open, their color dull and glazed with pain at first, then sharpening by degrees. Her throat worked, voice scraping out raw and small.

"'—'Kiko…?"

Everything in Akiko stilled. Her claws gripped the cockpit edge so tightly the metal creaked.

Jyn drew back just enough to give them space, a soft smile ghosting across her lips. "That's a good sign. She's tougher than she looks."

Akiko didn't answer. She only leaned in, her tails sweeping around the cockpit like a living shield, and touched her brow to Raya's helmet. The relief cut so deep it hurt, like thawing frostbite.

Raya's breath came slow, unsteady. Her hand trembled when she raised it, magic pooling under her skin in faint golden swirls. It gathered sluggishly, proof of how close she'd come to the edge. Then it surged, light spilling over her injuries.

Her eyes squeezed shut with a faint sound that might have been pain, or relief, or both.

Akiko didn't move. Just watched, her heart clawing up her throat, waiting for the last wound to seal. Waiting for Raya to look at her and give some sign that it would truly be alright.

When Raya finally sagged back, pale and exhausted but whole, Jyn let out a quiet breath of her own. She packed up her kit with soft clacks of metal against metal, then gave Akiko a small nod. Understanding, permission, maybe both. She slipped away.

Akiko barely waited for her boots to fade down the hollow. She keyed the cockpit hatch closed, sealing them in. The systems wheezed as they pressurized the tiny space, cockpit glass frosting faintly at the edges before stabilizing.

She toggled the vent on her suit, letting fresh air wash through. Her oxygen veil flickered and faded, replaced by the cool brush of atmosphere against her skin.

Leaning forward, she undid Raya's helmet seals with careful fingers. The suit's neck ring gave a soft click and hiss. Then Raya was there in full. Face flushed, eyes rimmed red, but alive.

Akiko pressed their foreheads together, noses bumping awkwardly in the cramped space.

Raya's hands curled at Akiko's sides, unsteady fingers gripping at her suit like it was the only thing anchoring them together. Her thumbs brushed slow, absent patterns into the seams. The cockpit was so narrow they were half-strung together by necessity, but neither pulled away.

"Still with me?" Akiko rasped, voice low against Raya's ear.

Raya nodded, eyes closed, cheek pressed to Akiko's collarbone. Her lashes were damp. "Still with you," she whispered. "Always."

It broke something fragile inside Akiko, the pressure of all her terror finally spilling over. Her arms locked tighter, claws skimming the suit's hard plates as if she could draw Raya inside her chest and keep her there, safe from everything.

Raya only shushed her, soft and unsteady, running fingers into the short hair at Akiko's nape. "You can't keep shaking forever," she breathed, lips ghosting Akiko's ear. "You'll run out of pieces to break."

Akiko let out a rough, near-hysterical sound. Then pressed their mouths together, into something not quite a kiss, more a desperate meeting of breath and warmth. When she finally pulled back, her head sagged, resting against Raya's.

"I'm not letting this happen again." The words spilled out low and raw. "I promised you a suit like mine. We don't have dragon scales for armor, but we can still make it adaptive, reactive. Takuto can run it."

Raya went very still. Then pulled back just enough to look at her. "You want to give me a neural link."

The words seemed to hang between them. Was it the pain that made her pause? Because it would hurt, Akiko knew that better than anyone. The burn of the implant, the crawling ache as it rooted along the spine, the lingering thrum in the skull. But it would keep her safe. It would give her the strength to defend herself.

But even still, some small, treacherous part of her recoiled at the thought of putting Raya through that, of being the one to cause it.

She nodded, a tiny jerk. "It'll hurt. It's… invasive, at first. Having something else in your head. But he taught me everything. Helped me survive. He can help you too."

Raya searched her face. "Is this so you can protect me better? Or so I can keep up with you?"

Akiko's jaw worked, the ache behind her eyes sharpening. "Both," she admitted. Her voice cracked. "Because I can't… I can't stand the thought of losing you. If I do… there's nothing left of me worth saving."

Raya exhaled, long and trembling. Her hand came up, brushing across Akiko's cheek, then threading into her hair again. "Then do it," she whispered. "If it means staying with you, if it means surviving this… do it."

Akiko closed her eyes. Sank into that tiny point of contact, let it steady the riot in her chest. Then nodded.

"Alright," she breathed. "We'll start tomorrow. Together."

They settled again in the narrow confines of the cockpit, legs tangled. It wasn't comfortable, the hard contour of the pilot harness dug into Akiko's shoulders, and Raya's breath hitched now and then in faint, residual pain. But it was them. Still here. Still together.

Akiko's eyes drifted half-shut, lashes brushing the curve of Raya's cheek. Each breath tasted of recycled air. Her arms were tight around Raya's waist, feeling every tiny shift of muscle, the small sighs as pain ebbed to something duller.

For the first time in days, the desperate clawing in her chest eased.

Tomorrow.

She let the thought settle into the dark, where it curled close around Raya's heartbeat. The slow, stubborn thrum of it was enough.

Akiko didn't notice when sleep finally took her. Only that her last conscious memory was of Raya's fingers slipping into hers, squeezing once, as if to promise: still with you.