Chapter 17 - A Fox-Shaped Impossibility

The hangar had quieted, but Cassandra’s thoughts were anything but still.

Akiko’s limp body had already been maneuvered out by the medics. The technicians were dispersing, murmuring among themselves in voices just low enough to be respectful—or afraid.

But Cassandra remained, staring at the scorched EVA suit left behind.

The burn patterns weren’t random. They weren’t the result of friction or atmosphere or malfunction.

They were deliberate. Symmetrical. Inscribed.

Her gaze lingered on the shapes—lines that hinted at runes, too exact to be natural and too alien to be human.

And then there was the girl herself.

The tail. The ears.

Cassandra pushed off the railing, magnetic boots releasing with a soft hiss as she floated toward the exit.

She didn’t trust Calloway. Not anymore.

The doctor had been dodging questions since the debrief, hiding behind protocol and patient confidentiality. But if Cassandra wanted the truth, she’d have to take it.

Personally.

She climbed the ladder to the central spire, arms pulling her up hand over hand. The muted rumble of damaged power lines and flickering systems followed her through the Sovereign’s quiet corridors.

They weren’t whole. Not yet. And somewhere in their midst, they were harboring something that wasn’t just undocumented or unauthorized.

Something that might not be human.

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The medical deck was dim—emergency lighting casting thin, sharp shadows across the room. Diagnostic equipment hummed in steady rhythm, the only sound save for the soft click of boot magnets.

Dr. Calloway stood near Tsukihara’s bed, arms folded as the medics secured her to the diagnostic table.

Cassandra drifted closer, her voice flat but cutting. “I need answers.”

Calloway didn’t turn. “This is a medical facility, not an interrogation chamber.”

“You’ve had your chances to explain,” Cassandra said, catching a handrail to halt her momentum. “Her file’s a joke, and I’m done playing polite. I want the truth.”

Calloway finally faced her—expression calm, composed, but Cassandra saw it: a flicker of resignation behind her eyes.

“The truth,” Calloway said coolly, “is that Ensign Tsukihara is stable. For now. Beyond that, you’ll wait.”

“Don’t patronize me, Doctor,” Cassandra snapped. “I saw her. You think I can just ignore that? The tail? The ears? What kind of treatment are you hiding behind those vitals?”

Calloway didn’t blink. “My priority is recovery. If you want more than that, talk to the captain.”

“I will,” Cassandra said, already moving toward the console beside the diagnostic bed. “But first, I’m re-running every scan you claim to have done. Personally.”

Calloway’s lips thinned, but she didn’t block her.

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“Be my guest. Just remember: whatever you think you’ll find, it’s still covered by medical confidentiality.”

Cassandra didn’t respond. Her fingers flew across the console, initiating a full scan sweep—tissue integrity, neurological stress markers, and most importantly: genetic baseline.

Behind her, Calloway murmured, “You’re not the only one trying to protect this crew, Lieutenant.”

Cassandra’s voice was ice. “Then act like it.”

The first results populated across the screen.

And stopped her cold.

The DNA was clean. Too clean.

Then came the anomalies.

Not markers of a human genome. Not even flagged mutations.

New base pair structures. An additional strand of protein-binding instructions she couldn’t classify. Rhythmic patterns outside Terran standard. Like a melody threaded through her genetic code.

Cassandra gripped the edge of the console, hard.

No known human mod came close to this.

No military-grade gene work. No black market rewrite. Nothing even approaching what she was seeing now.

Her eyes narrowed as memories began surfacing—every odd moment since Akiko had boarded. The uncanny agility. The reflexes. Her ease with zero-g. Her uncanny ability to influence the people around her.

Ethan.

Cassandra’s jaw locked.

He’d gravitated to her from day one. Smiling, flirting, giving her attention he usually burned out after a week. At first, she’d chalked it up to his usual bad habits.

But what if it wasn’t just him?

Cassandra had felt it too—that subtle tilt in her own judgment. Letting the girl do the EVA. Trusting her in a way she couldn’t explain.

Was it charm? Some sort of psionic influence? A chemical effect?

Her gaze snapped back to the screen.

This wasn’t manipulation. It was something more fundamental.

She hadn’t just lied about her identity.

She’d lied about what she was.

Cassandra stepped back from the console, the silence in the room suddenly deafening.

The drones. The runes. The magic. The impossible shields.

Tsukihara was the common denominator.

A walking impossibility.

A secret that hadn’t just snuck past security—

It had been invited aboard.

And now?

Cassandra didn’t know if they’d ever be able to send her back.

If Tsukihara was connected to the enemy—some kind of agent, a rogue experiment—it would explain everything.

Her sudden appearance. Her evasiveness. Her abilities.

But not her motivation.

Why embed herself aboard the Sovereign? What was her endgame?

And what about Ethan?

Cassandra’s jaw tightened. If Tsukihara was manipulating him, it could be a bid for influence. A long play—getting close to Ward’s inner circle. Softening the chain of command from within.

She turned away from the console, thoughts racing ahead.

There was no choice now.

The captain had to know—everything.

“Doctor Calloway,” she said coldly, “you’ve been sitting on this information. Care to explain why?”

Calloway met her gaze, calm on the surface, but tension rippled beneath. Cassandra saw it now. She wasn’t the only one hiding strain.

“You saw the results,” Calloway said evenly. “I wasn’t ‘sitting’ on anything. I was trying to give her the chance to explain herself.”

“Explain?” Cassandra scoffed. “She’s not human, Doctor. She’s been lying since day one—manipulating her way into critical systems, cozying up to key personnel—and you think she deserves the benefit of the doubt?”

Calloway’s tone cooled. “I think she’s more than whatever you’re trying to reduce her to. But if you want to storm into Ward’s office with half-baked theories and no context? Be my guest. Just don’t expect me to stand by and let you start a witch hunt.”

Cassandra straightened, eyes like steel. “Watch me.”

She pushed off from the console and launched herself toward the corridor. The faint murmur of Calloway’s voice followed her—low, unreadable, almost protective.

Cassandra didn’t turn.

She didn’t want to hear it.

At the junction, she barely registered the figure until it collided with her in the low gravity.

She twisted midair, grabbing a support bar to stop her momentum—so did the other figure.

Ensign Davenroth.

Anna’s face was flushed, her expression caught between panic and hope.

“Lieutenant!” she gasped. “Is Kim okay? I heard what happened—something about an EVA, and then the power went down, and—”

Cassandra’s suspicions sharpened.

She didn’t answer the question.

“What’s it to you, Davenroth?” she asked instead, her voice cool and clipped. “Why are you so concerned?”

Anna blinked. “She’s my friend. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Friend?” Cassandra’s tone turned dry. “She’s been aboard for two weeks. And you’re already this close? Rushing to medical like it’s a family emergency? Don’t you think that’s a little... convenient?”

Anna’s expression twisted in confusion, then indignation. “Of course not. She’s been kind to me. When no one else even noticed I was there.”

Cassandra’s gaze hardened. “What’s wrong is that you don’t even know what you’re caring about.”

Anna reeled back slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s not who she says she is.”

“She’s Kim,” Anna said, voice rising. “She’s just... different. So what?”

“Different?” Cassandra stepped in. “You mean the tail? The ears? You mean she’s not even human?”

Anna’s breath caught.

But she didn’t back down.

“She’s never hurt anyone. She’s a good person.”

“Good people don’t lie about who they are,” Cassandra said, voice taut with anger. “They don’t sneak onto warships. They don’t play games with people’s trust.”

“She didn’t sneak on—”

“She manipulated her way into systems access. Into operations. Into friendships. That isn’t nothing, Davenroth. That’s calculated.”

Anna’s voice cracked. “You’re wrong. She’s not like that. You don’t know her.”

“And you do?” Cassandra shot back. “Let me guess—she’s opened up to you? Told you everything about her past? Her family? Her purpose for being here?”

Anna hesitated. “Not... everything.”

“Exactly.”

Anna’s hands balled into fists. “Maybe she hasn’t told me because she’s scared. Because she knew you’d act like this.”

Cassandra leaned in. Her voice dropped to a razor’s edge. “And maybe she didn’t tell you because she has something to hide.”

They hovered there in the narrow junction, the tension thick and electric.

Then Cassandra pushed off, turning away.

“Stay out of this, Davenroth,” she said without looking back. “If you know what’s good for you.”