On the other side of the system, a massive freighter drifted through space. The vessel resembled a skeletal ribcage, with eleven finger-like girders on each side, five of which gripped capsules tightly, while the last six remained curled up like the legs of a dead insect.

  The main cabin, shaped like a geometric teardrop, sat at the front of the ship. A corridor ran from the main cabin along the support spine, branching off into smaller habitats that rested along the upper portions of the locking struts. The corridor ended at the rear of the ship, where massive cargo holds resided. Three rows of six engines lined the rear; three glowed quietly, propelling the ship forward through the endless dark.

  Inside, the air hummed with life. Radio chatter mixed with distant, muffled voices, the clanking of tools, the constant hum of the environmental system, and the soft hiss of airlocks opening and closing. The walls of the corridor were covered in vibrant, hand-painted murals—scenes of distant planets, swirling nebulae, and the family’s ancestral journeys across the stars. Interwoven with these murals were hanging tapestries, delicately embroidered with symbols of good fortune. Small trinkets and charms dangled from the ceiling, some sparkling as they caught the light, swaying gently with the air currents from the environmental vents. Each mural and trinket represented a trade, a memory, or a deal struck in some far-off corner of the galaxy.

  A gray-furred Elder, his muzzle dusted in white, knelt beside one of the murals, carefully touching up a swirling nebula with deliberate strokes of dark blue paint. His coveralls, once pristine, bore the stains of decades of labor. This mural was important—it depicted one of the oldest trade routes their family had ever traveled, a route his own grandmother had helped establish. He was nearly finished, just a few strokes left to complete the story.

  A sudden shattered the quiet.

  A small figure in a bright yellow-and-blue jumpsuit skidded around the outer curve of the corridor, paws slipping on the smooth metal floor. The Elder barely had time to turn before the child crashed into him, sending his paint can flying. The dark blue splattered across his coveralls, his muzzle, and worst of all—the mural.

  The Fennecari kit scrambled to her feet, ears pinned back as she took in the damage. She let out a squeaky, rushed apology, bowed hastily, and bolted off again, leaving behind a trail of blue paw prints.

  The Elder exhaled slowly, brushing a hand down his now-speckled fur. He turned to track the tiny culprit’s escape, but before he could so much as sigh, another figure rounded the same corner—this one much larger.

  Lieutenant Liora barely caught herself before stepping in the spilled paint, her right ear tipping forward as she came to a stop. She was bent over, hands on her knees, breath coming fast as she tried to recover from the chase. Gold and silver rings jangled around her wrists and ankles, a few studs glinting in her ears as she flicked them back.

  "Apologies, Elder," she said between breaths. "Please send a message to your supervisor under Lt. Liora, and you’ll be reimbursed for your time and uniform."

  The Elder’s ears twitched, his sharp eyes flicking between the ruined mural and the panting officer. He sighed, shaking his head before giving a slow nod. "As is tradition, Lieutenant, she will be the one to repair what she has damaged."

  Liora groaned, rubbing her face. "Of course, Elder. I’ll make sure she does."

  Satisfied with that answer, the Elder turned back to inspect the smudged nebula, muttering something about "kits with no sense of caution."

  Liora straightened, rolling her shoulders, then took off again, following the fading laughter of her little sister. "Chika, don’t run through the corridors!"

  The paw prints led into one of the habitat corridors, where the airlock doors hissed shut just before Liora reached them. She braced herself against the bulkhead, taking a steadying breath before straightening, rolling her sleeves up as if preparing for battle.

  She had lost this round, but she would find that little troublemaker.

  And when she did,

  The Lt. braced herself against the bulkhead, catching her breath before straightening and striding toward the doors. With a quick tap on the control panel, the airlock slid open, and she stepped inside.

  Her ears twitched as she stopped at the first door on her right. Another tap on the control panel, and the door slid open.

  Inside, Zireal stood in front of a console, his right ear flicking in amusement as he grinned over his shoulder. Liora sighed, flicking up the stubborn tip of her own ear before sighing in defeat as it flopped right back down.

  A chittering giggle sounded from beneath the console, followed by the twitch of a small tan tail peeking out from behind Zireal’s legs.

  Liora clasped her hands behind her back and stepped forward.

  "Brother, I seem to have lost a wayward Chika. I just can’t seem to find her anywhere. You wouldn’t have happened to see her sneak in here, would you?"

  Zireal flicked an ear, turning back to the screen in front of him. "Nope, not at all, dear sister. I thought I heard the airlock doors open just before you came in, but it seems I was mistaken." A sharp-toothed grin spread across his face. "That’s unfortunate. Nanny was handing out these great big syrup ant bars, and I was going to give her some."

  Liora hummed, pulling a broad bar from her pocket. She tore open the wrapper, snapped off a chunk, and popped it into her mouth. "Would you like her share?"

  Zireal’s ears perked up, his interest clear. "Ohh, that does look good; don’t mind if I do—"

  Just as he reached for a piece, a sharp yip of protest came from beneath the console—followed immediately by tiny claws digging into his shin.

  Zireal flinched ever so slightly, just enough to be noticeable.

  Liora’s playful smirk faltered. That reaction wasn’t just about Chika defending her candy—Zireal could usually take a hit without showing it.

  Something was off.

  Her ears twitched, eyes narrowing slightly as she shifted her posture. Zireal wasn’t looking at her anymore—he was focused on his console, his expression carefully neutral.

  Liora took a slow breath, her tail lowering instinctively as she adjusted her stance.

  -Something wrong?- she asked in silent speak, keeping her ears forward to avoid drawing attention.

  Zireal’s fingers flicked over the controls. A barely perceptible shrug. -Not sure yet.-

  A faint blip on the sensor feed flickered before disappearing. Zireal’s fingers tightened slightly on the console.-It could be a jump flare or residual drive signature. Could be nothing… but it was there long enough to make me wary.-

  Liora suppressed the urge to glance at the console. Instead, she reached for another piece of candy, keeping her tone casual. "Shame, I was hoping to keep this all for myself, but I suppose I can share."

  Zireal smirked, relaxing slightly. "Generous of you, dear sister."

  Liora flicked her ears twice. -I’ll talk to Father.-

  Zireal inclined his head ever so slightly in acknowledgment before turning back to his work.

  Just as the tension settled, Liora noticed a small hand creeping up toward her pocket.

  She exhaled slowly, watching in amusement as Chika’s tiny fingers brushed against the wrapper. The kit’s head slowly emerged, tongue peeking from the corner of her mouth in deep concentration, completely unaware that both her older siblings were watching.

  Just as her fingers curled around her prize, Liora’s hand , grabbing Chika by the scruff of her neck.

  Chika let out a startled yelp as she was suddenly hoisted off the ground.

  Liora smirked, holding the squirming kit up. "Rule number one of stealth, Kitling—pay attention to your surroundings."

  Chika stopped struggling just long enough to plaster an innocent smile across her muzzle. "Oh look! What’s that behind you?"

  Liora didn’t even flinch. "Nice try."

  "It worked on Uncle Jekar!"

  "Uncle Jekar is a pushover."

  Chika kicked and struggled as Liora tucked her under her arm like a wayward package. "I thought the first rule was to be sneaky and quiet!" she protested.

  Somehow, during her struggle, she managed to steal the rest of the candy bar, stuffing half of it into her mouth with a triumphant little growl.

  Zireal barked out a laugh. "The only way you can be sneaky is if you’re paying attention to your surroundings and knowing when a trap is a trap."

  Chika harumphed, chewing stubbornly. Before she could swallow, Zireal ruffled the fur between her ears, making them flop back and forth.

  "Thop it!" she mumbled through her mouthful.

  Zireal grinned, flicking her ear one last time before turning back to his work. "Mind your sister and your caretaker, and I’ll come play with you and Aelar after shift change and a meal."

  Chika swallowed and pouted. "Aww… but Aelar has his nose stuck in an engineering manual. You could play with me instead!"

  Zireal chuckled but didn’t look up from his screen. Liora sighed and turned, carrying her squirming little sister out the door.

  A service drone floated down the corridor just as she stepped out. Without breaking stride, Liora reached out, grabbed one of the struts, and swung herself onto the drone, settling on top as it continued toward the front of the ship.

  Chika wiggled and kicked until she was sitting on Liora’s lap, her tail flicking excitedly. "Sister, can we go to the observation deck? Jarek says we’ll be passing through a system with !"

  Liora wrapped her arms around her younger sister and shook her head. "Maybe after your lessons. Besides, don’t you want to play with Zireal after shift change?"

  Chika turned away, crossing her arms with a dramatic humph, pouting the rest of the ride.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The drone slowed, and Liora hopped off before walking toward a brightly decorated door. As it slid aside with a soft hiss, a warm, rhythmic hum filled the air. Inside, an older Fennecari matron rocked a small bundle in her arms, her large ears twitching as she turned to the two entering figures.

  “Ah, there you are, little Chika. Your mother was looking for you.”

  Chika’s ears drooped, her tail curling slightly as she cringed at the thought of the inevitable lecture.

  Liora glanced down at her. “The longer you make her wait, the worse the scolding will be.”

  The kit’s shoulders slumped, and with a heavy sigh of defeat, she trudged past the reception desk, disappearing further into the nursery.

  Liora watched her go, an amused smile lingering on her face before she turned back to the caretaker. “If Mother asks for me, I’m heading up to the medbay on the bridge deck to talk to Father.”

  The caretaker nodded, gently patting the fussy kit in her arms until it settled.

  As soon as Liora stepped out of the nursery, her smile faded. She exhaled sharply, ears flicking back as she broke into a jog, her boots barely making a sound against the corridor floor.

  Zireal’s reaction earlier still nagged at her. If something was wrong, Father needed to know.

  She reached the medbay and gave the panel a firm kick when its motor whined in protest. The old door rumbled open, sluggish as ever. Someone needed to fix that… but not today.

  Inside, a black-furred Fennecari stood over an older, speckled one lying on a diagnostics table. His leg was elevated, wrapped in a fracture-stabilizing brace, the material still solidifying from the printer.

  Liora stepped to the side of the door, clasping her hands behind her back as she waited for her father to finish with his patient.

  Dr. Teklen frowned as he studied the tablet in his hand. “Jekar, how many times do I have to remind you to take those supplements? You know the captain let you on board with the understanding you’d keep yourself in working order.”

  Jekar’s ears folded back as he looked away. “I know, Doc. Serra sets them out every shift, I just… forget. And if I’m working on a project—”

  "Sure, sure—the project takes over your mind, and your health flies right out the airlock," Dr. Teklen interrupted, arching an eyebrow.

  He folded his arms. "Why don’t you ask Serra to grind them up and drop ’em into that caraf mug of yours? You seem to manage to keep that filled just fine."

  Jekar’s ears perked up, tail starting to thump against the bio-bed. “That’s a great idea!” He pulled out a small tablet and began typing excitedly. “Maybe I could even rig a supplement grinder to add them automatically—Ow!”

  Teklen smacked him lightly on the head with his tablet. “That’s to you.”

  Jekar grumbled, rubbing the top of his head, but his amusement remained.

  Teklen sighed, shaking his head as he tapped the tablet. “I’m putting you on light duty until that leg of yours heals and you’re back in balance. That means no climbing into wiring conduits or messing around on the upper decks. I’d rather not have to peel you off the bottom hull, thank you very much.”

  Jekar groaned. “Come on, Doc, I’ll be fine—I’ve worked through worse!”

  Teklen lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. "Uh-huh. And when you fall off a conduit because your balance is shot, who’s going to scrape you off the hull?"

  Jekar muttered something under his breath, but tapped the screen anyway as Teklen held the tablet out. A light chime sounded as the approval went through.

  “Just a quick print here to confirm you understand and will follow these instructions, or you risk being grounded at the next docking. Copies will go to your mate, your supervisor, and the chief engineer.”

  Jekar grimaced. “Yeah, yeah.” He tapped the screen again, sealing his fate.

  Teklen nodded, already unstrapping the brace from its support. “Alright, you’re free to go. Just… take it easy on that leg, alright?”

  The door hissed open as a nurse stepped in with an anti-grav chair.

  Liora offered Jekar a gentle smile, and he waved as the nurse escorted him out of the clinic.

  Dr. Teklen pressed a button on the biobed, and a thin transparent film detached, retracting into a slit in the deck plates with a soft hiss. Shaking his head, he muttered, “One of these days, I’ll glue a reminder right to that caraf mug of his.”

  He glanced down at the medbay terminal, running a final check on his supplies before securing the cabinets. As he finished filling out Jekar’s file, Liora stepped forward, leaning over his shoulder.

  “You know, you should get some rest too, Dad. I’m pretty sure being Chief Medical Officer doesn’t mean you’re required to work through every shift,” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

  Dr. Teklen lifted an eyebrow in return. “Says the one who’s been at every single security drill this quarter cycle. I you’re aware of the doctor-patient confidentiality contract.”

  He gave her a pointed look and shooed her away with a wave of his hand. “You’re still new in your role, but you don’t have to be eager. That, and a few cadets have been coming in with sprains and bruises. Try to be gentler—you’re not in actual combat.”

  Liora rolled her eyes, her ears flattening slightly in embarrassment. She stepped back, letting him finish his work as he shut down the terminal. “I’m just making sure we’re ready for anything. You never know what’s out there. I’m also trying to set an example.”

  Teklen sighed, shaking his head but smiling slightly.

  Liora hesitated for a fraction of a second, her tail flicking. “So… I take it Zireal already told you about what the sensors picked up?”

  Teklen nodded. “He did. Your mother and I spoke about it.”

  His tone remained even, but there was something in his expression that made Liora’s fur bristle slightly.

  “And?” she prompted.

  Teklen exhaled, rubbing his muzzle. “And… we’re monitoring it. No immediate threat, but we’re not ignoring it either. The captain has already put a few contingencies in place.”

  Liora frowned, ears twitching. "The crew’s already talking."

  Teklen sighed. "Of course they are. That’s why we’re keeping things quiet until we know more. No need to set them on edge before we have to."

  "And if the rumors spread first?"

  "Then we’ll manage it. But for now, let them speculate—better that than unnecessary panic."

  Liora frowned slightly but nodded. If her mother, the captain, was taking it seriously, then there wasn’t much she could add.

  Teklen must have noticed her lingering tension because he gave her shoulder a firm squeeze. “I know that look. You’re going to run yourself into the ground if you don’t let yourself breathe.”

  His gaze softened. “Speaking of which… how about a family dinner tonight? We’re due for a real meal together, especially after the long stretch between dockings.”

  Liora blinked, caught slightly off guard by the sudden shift. “Wait, really? A sit-down meal? Mom actually signed off on that?”

  Teklen’s lips curled into an amused smile. “Believe it or not, suggested it.”

  Liora stared at him. “Are we talking about the same woman?”

  Teklen chuckled. “She’s been eyeing the galley’s stash of dried spices and the Corlian sand hoppers. Apparently, she thinks it’s time to use the good ones before they ‘go to waste.’”

  Liora smirked, already picturing her mother barking out orders in the galley, swatting at Zireal and Joean for the sand hoppers. “Sounds like something we don’t do often enough. We need a security detail to guard the hoppers until they’re ready.”

  Teklen let out a bark of laughter as he grabbed his bag and started toward the door. “Exactly.” His smile lingered, a bit wistful as he thought of their scattered routines and responsibilities. “We’ll get everyone there—your brothers, the twins… the whole lot of us. And,” he added, catching her gaze, “you get to slip out early for security checks.”

  Liora scoffed, crossing her arms. “I’ll to resist the urge,” she said, feigning annoyance. “But only because I wouldn’t mind seeing Aelar try to bargain for the biggest serving again.”

  Teklen chuckled, his eyes crinkling with warmth. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. It’ll be good for all of us—just a little time together.” His hand rested on her shoulder a moment longer, a quiet gesture of comfort, of understanding.

  Liora returned the touch briefly before pulling away, giving him a soft smile. “Alright then… a family dinner it is.”

  She turned toward the door but hesitated. “But if the twins start fighting over dessert, don’t expect me to step in.”

  Teklen chuckled, shaking his head as she stepped out. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  The medbay doors hissed shut behind her as Liora exhaled, rolling her shoulders. Her father’s words still echoed in her mind.

  She didn’t like it. Just because pirates hadn’t made a move yet didn’t mean they wouldn’t.

  As she reached the lift, the doors slid open—and a solid mass of frustration and attitude nearly barreled into her.

  "Watch it," a sharp voice snapped.

  Liora stepped back, raising an eyebrow. Joean, her middle brother, stood scowling at her, arms crossed. His ears were slightly flattened, his tail flicking like an agitated metronome.

  "You’re the one flying out of the lift like an asteroid on reentry," she shot back, eyeing him. "Something got your fur in a twist?"

  Joean huffed, shifting his weight. "Nothing. Just heading to the sims. Unlike some people, I actually have training to do."

  Liora snorted. "Right, because learning how to push buttons and do fancy barrel rolls is much harder than security training."

  Joean’s ears flicked sharply upward, hackles rising. "You think flying this ship is just button-mashing?"** His amber eyes narrowed.**

  Liora smirked. "No, I think think flying this ship is the most important job in the galaxy."

  A sharp tension crackled between them for a moment. Liora had always had an easy, if competitive, bond with Zireal, but Joean? He was different. More withdrawn. More prone to brooding. He took after their mother’s calculating intensity but lacked Zireal’s effortless charisma.

  Joean exhaled sharply through his nose. "Forget it. I don’t have time for this."

  He turned toward the lift controls, ears still twitching in irritation.

  Liora hesitated. She could just let him go—but something in his stance, in the way his fingers tensed at his sides, made her pause.

  Instead, she leaned casually against the lift wall. "So, you gonna tell me why you’re actually upset, or are you just gonna sulk your way through the flight deck?"

  Joean didn’t look at her. "It’s nothing."

  Liora’s tail flicked. "Sure. And I’m a galactic diplomat."

  Joean gritted his teeth, ears pressing back. Finally, he let out a breath, a mix of anger and frustration. "Mother won’t let me fly unsupervised yet."** He nearly growled the words.** "I’ve run the simulations over a hundred times—I could do it in my sleep. But no, I still need ‘guidance.’"

  Liora resisted the urge to smirk. "You know she’s the captain, right? Her ship, her rules."

  Joean whipped around, his tail bristling. "Don’t start. I know that. Doesn’t mean it’s not "

  His tail flicked sharply, frustration bleeding into his voice. "She says I need to ‘understand the responsibility,’ but I know what I’m doing! Every time I prove myself, she moves the goalpost. I bet if Zireal had been a pilot, she’d have let him fly already."

  Liora studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "Look at it this way—she’s probably just waiting for the right moment. You don’t wanna be the idiot who gets thrown into a real fight before you’re ready."

  Joean’s jaw tensed, but some of the frustration in his posture eased just a fraction.

  Finally, he sighed. "Yeah. Whatever. Not like it matters."

  Liora tilted her head. "It does. Just don’t waste energy being mad about it. You’re good—everyone knows it. Just wait for your moment."

  Joean didn’t respond, but he gave her a brief, acknowledging nod before stepping into the lift. "See you later, Liora."

  The doors slid shut, leaving her alone in the corridor.

  Liora exhaled, shaking her head with a small smirk. Brothers.

  She turned and started toward the mess hall, but her mind lingered on Joean’s frustration.

  She understood it.

  She really did.

  Feeling ready but not being trusted to act on it?

  Yeah, she knew that feeling all too well.

  Her tail flicked as she stepped into the mess hall, greeted by the low hum of conversations, the clatter of trays, and the faint aroma of heated ration packs.

  It wasn’t as lively as usual, and that alone made her ears twitch in suspicion.

  Crew meals were often loud affairs—a mix of gossip, grumbling, and rowdy laughter. But tonight, the atmosphere felt... off.

  She picked up a tray and moved toward the food dispensers when a hushed conversation caught her ear.

  "...I’m telling you, I heard them say the readings match known raider patterns."

  Liora’s tail flicked.

  She kept her stride casual, grabbing a nutrient bar and a heat-sealed meal pack before turning toward the nearest table. Three cargo hands and a deck tech were hunched over their meals, speaking in low, conspiratorial tones.

  "Could be a patrol," one of them muttered, stirring at his food without eating it. "Could be nothing."

  "Yeah? And could be a scout party marking our location before the rest of them show up."

  Liora cleared her throat loud enough to be heard.

  All four heads snapped up, ears twitching back in guilt.

  She didn’t sit, but instead rested her tray on the edge of their table, looking at them calmly but expectantly.

  Liora casually leaned against the table, picking at her nutrient bar without looking up. "You know," she said idly, "if I wanted bad intel, I’d listen to drunk pilots at a fueling station. But since I’m here, maybe you can tell me what you’re whispering about?"

  The deck tech, a wiry male named Haren, forced a chuckle. "Oh, you know, just passing time."

  Liora raised an eyebrow. "Right. And in this little time-passing exercise, were you planning to start a full-blown panic, or is that just a bonus?"

  Haren winced, ears flattening slightly. "C’mon, Lieutenant. We’re just—"

  "Speculating?" she cut in. "That’s how rumors start. That’s how people get ."

  One of the cargo hands grumbled under his breath. "You saying it’s not true?"

  Liora’s gaze sharpened. "I’m saying, if I wanted the entire ship to know about something, you’d hear it from —not through scraps of overheard comm chatter."

  Silence.

  Then the same cargo hand, a burly Fennecari with a scar along his muzzle, leaned forward slightly. "So there something."

  Liora didn’t blink. "There’s always out here. You’ve worked cargo long enough to know that."

  She let the words linger. Not a confirmation, not a denial—just a fact.

  Haren exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. "Alright, alright, we get it."

  Liora picked up her tray. "Good. Now eat your damn food before I start filing reports about wasted rations."

  That got a few chuckles, and the tension at the table eased.

  She moved to a quieter corner, settling down with her own meal—but her ears stayed tuned to the conversations around her.

  Because while rumors could be dangerous… sometimes, they weren’t wrong. And if the crew was already whispering about it, then the danger wasn’t far behind.

  A chill ran down Liora’s spine. Whatever Zireal had seen, whatever the crew was whispering about—she had the sinking feeling it was only the beginning.