On cue at five in the morning… well, not quite. Steve was calling my phone. I growled and answered without even glancing at the caller ID.

“WHAT!” I barked, not hiding my irritation.

“We have a problem!” Steve’s voice came through, quiet but frantic.

Pulling the phone away, I squinted at the time. It wasn’t five; it was six thirty. Steve was a morning person, but even he didn’t wake up in a panic before dawn. Something was definitely off.

“On my way,” I said, all irritation gone, replaced with a rush of urgency. I hung up and threw myself out of bed, grabbing the first clothes I could find and yanking them on. Steve never panicked. The last time something shook him even a little was when his beloved forest green Fiat 500 got flattened by a company rig, and he hadn’t shed a tear. That car was his baby, for Luna’s sake. So, if he was rattled now, it was serious.

With boots on and laces tucked in, I bolted out of my truck, sprinting toward the MCV. The quiet that met me inside was unnerving. Steve wasn’t up and about like he usually was. The sound of a toilet flushing made me whip my head around just as Mac stepped out of the bathroom, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“Lyra? What the hell are you doing up and dressed like that?” she asked, her eyes scanning my disheveled appearance.

“Steve called, said we had a problem. Have you seen him?” I shot back, glancing around the room.

“Not since last night,” she replied, still looking puzzled. “Did you sleep in the MCV?”

“Yeah, Major Pain in the Ass never came in,” she answered, her tone flat.

I blinked, suddenly suspicious. “You slept here?”

“Yup,” she said, heading to her workstation to pull on her boots.

I started searching the MCV, checking the kitchen and the bathroom again just to be sure. Nothing. I glanced over at Mac, who shrugged, just as baffled as I was.

“Steve?” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady.

“In here,” came a loud whisper from the bunk room.

I exchanged a look with Mac before we crept over, sliding the door open cautiously. There he was, lying on his back, eyes wide as he stared at the bundle of snow-white fur curled up on his chest.

We leaned in, both of us staring at the small, wolf-like creature. It was no bigger than a corgi, fast asleep, its tail draped over its nose as it snored softly. I turned my head to Steve, who looked desperate and helpless.

“Where did it come from?” I asked, half expecting him to have a reasonable answer.

“I have no idea… but every time I try to move, it growls,” he whispered, his eyes flicking nervously to the tiny beast.

“Interesting…” Mac’s voice broke in from behind me. I turned to see her holding up a crimson red bra with black lace trim, dangling it from her finger like it was a live grenade. She eyed it suspiciously.

I turned back to Steve, who was now turning a shade of red that could probably be seen from space. A quick scan of the room revealed a mess of military and company clothing tossed everywhere. I crossed my arms, arching an eyebrow at Steve.

“Where is Major Pixiewolf, Steve?” I asked, my voice laced with suspicion.

“Uh… I don’t know,” he mumbled, biting his lower lip and avoiding eye contact like a guilty teenager.

“Uh-huh… Mac, did the major ever come back to your bunk room last night?” I asked, still staring Steve down.

“Nope. I would have sensed it,” Mac replied, her voice full of certainty.

“So, unless the major is wandering around the compound butt-naked, she’s still in this room,” I concluded, my tone dripping with amusement.

Steve looked anywhere but at us, and I could feel the devious grin forming on my face. I caught Mac’s eye, and she mirrored my expression. This was too good.

“Did you and the Major do some boinking last night after I went to bed?” Mac asked Steve, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

“Uh… uh… uh…” Steve stammered, his eyes darting between me and Mac like a cornered animal. Oh, this was golden. Star wasn’t going to believe a word of this when I told her.

As Steve tried to pull the blankets over his face, the miniature wolf on his chest let out a low growl, its eyes snapping open. The moment those bright blue eyes met Steve’s, I knew exactly who they belonged to, and a wide grin stretched across my face.

“I think we’ve found the missing Major,” I announced loudly, barely containing my laughter.

“Yup, I think we have!” Mac echoed, just as excited.

The tiny wolf’s head whipped toward us, wide-eyed in shock as it finally realized we were watching.

“Good morning, Major Pixiewolf,” I said cheerfully, unable to suppress the glee in my voice.

The look on the small wolf’s face was priceless, but even better was Steve’s dawning horror as the truth sank in. Mac and I couldn’t hold it in any longer—we burst out laughing, stumbling out of the room and closing the door behind us to give them some privacy. We collapsed into the workstations, still laughing as we tried to catch our breath. I took Steve’s chair, spinning around to face Mac.

“Oh my Luna! She’s a micro wolf!” I exclaimed, still in shock.

“Did you see their faces when they realized we caught them red-handed?” Mac asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“I know, right? Star is never going to believe this! She told me last night that the Major was a prude!”

“Ha! Let’s see that little puff ball insult me again. I’ve got ammo now!” Mac replied, her grin turning devious.

A few minutes later, Steve and the Major emerged from the bunk room, both fully dressed but still sporting the unmistakable look of people who’d been caught in the act. The Major made a beeline for her and Mac’s bunk room, but Mac wasn’t having it. She handed the Major her duffel bag, pointing back toward Steve’s room.

“You christened one room, you’re not doing it to mine,” Mac declared, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The Major grabbed her bag and scurried back to Steve’s room. I shot Mac a knowing grin before turning my attention to Steve, who looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor. His usual morning routine was clearly in shambles, and he was floundering.

“So… breakfast?” I asked, still grinning like the cat that caught the canary. Steve was an adult; I couldn’t exactly chastise him for what he did in his off time. But I could definitely tease him about it.

“Right… Good idea,” he mumbled, retreating to the kitchen as fast as his legs would carry him.

Thirty minutes later, we were all standing around the island, making our plates in an awkward silence that had hung in the air ever since Steve started cooking. It wasn’t broken until Jake and Kira walked in, hand in hand, exuding an aura of post-coital bliss. Kira practically glowed. Mac and I exchanged looks and smirked. It seemed Steve and the Major weren’t the only ones who had a good night.

“What?” Jake asked, arching an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Oh, nothing,” Mac replied, her tone too cheerful to be innocent.

Jake narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Well… It seems like you two weren’t the only ones to get your freak on last night,” I said, my tone teasing.

Both Jake and Kira blushed furiously, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. I rolled my eyes at their bashfulness.

“I expected you two to eventually do something,” I continued, “but I didn’t expect the other pair I found this morning.”

Their heads snapped up, brows furrowing as they tried to puzzle out who the other culprits were.

“Before you ask,” Mac chimed in, “let’s just say that if a certain puff ball decides to insult me again, I’ll be more than happy to share her little secret with the entire fleet.”

The Major nearly dropped her plate, her eyes going wide with alarm as Mac’s words hit home. I bit my lip to keep from laughing out loud, focusing on Jake and Kira instead.

“Should we even ask?” Kira ventured cautiously.

“It’s best if you don’t,” I replied, my tone a mix of amusement and warning.

Jake and Kira moved in tandem, sharing a plate of food as they waited for something. I glanced around the room, noticing that both Steve and the Major were also standing around, seemingly waiting for a cue to start eating. Mac, on the other hand, had no such reservations—she was already devouring her breakfast with gusto. I rolled my eyes, grabbed a sausage patty, and stuffed it into my mouth, waving a hand at the hesitant wolves.

“Eat!” I mumbled through a mouthful of food.

That was all the encouragement they needed. They finally started eating, and I grabbed a couple more sausage patties before deciding it was time to change out of the haphazard ensemble I had thrown on in my panic this morning. As I left the group, I passed Seth, who looked like he had spent the night wrestling with a tornado. His dark hair was a wild mess, sticking up in every direction. I waved at him, munching on another sausage patty. He returned the wave, looking too exhausted to do much else, and headed into the MCV.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Climbing into my truck, I headed straight for the sleeper and pulled the curtains shut. I had definitely thrown on the first things I found in my panic. My band shirt from Zak and Aura was inside out and backward, my socks didn’t match, and I had on a pair of loose gym shorts. Not to mention, I hadn’t bothered with a bra—not that I really needed one, being nearly flat-chested. My silver hair probably looked like a bird’s nest too. With a sigh, I picked out a proper set of clothes and redressed, making sure everything was right side out and matching this time.

Once I was finally presentable, I settled into the driver’s seat and picked up my tablet from the passenger seat, where it had spent the night. Scuzball, ever the diligent (and slightly irritated) AI, was perched on the screen, pretending to read a notebook covered in white cat heads—a sure sign he was deep in thought.

“How was your night?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“It was… informative. I got access to your mission files and read through them,” he replied, his tone indicating he was still processing everything.

“Oh? Anything I should be worried about?” I asked.

“Not just yet, but I’m looking forward to accompanying you. Pigeon Forge was starting to bore me to death,” he said, his tone laced with eager anticipation.

“I can tell,” I replied, amused by his sudden enthusiasm.

“Cayro’s been so overprotective of the girls, keeping Star and them far away from any action. It’s been dreadfully dull,” he continued, his voice tinged with boredom.

“Couldn’t you have helped Uncle Zaraki or, I don’t know, the war effort?” I suggested.

“Why in the ever-expanding cyberspace would I help that old windbag? He thinks he has everything figured out,” Scuzball huffed, clearly unimpressed with my uncle.

“What about helping with the war effort?” I asked, pressing the point.

“Oh, I tried… ended up pissing off President Clark and the entire NATO Council,” he said, nonchalantly.

“How did you manage that?” I asked, more curious than ever.

“I suggested they let me take control of the military networks and databases. I might have mentioned that I could end the war in a few days,” he replied, examining his claws with a self-satisfied grin. “I may have insulted them a bit while I was at it.”

“Yeah, there are plenty of movies that show why that’s a terrible idea,” I said, shaking my head.

“Eh… the war would be over,” he retorted, clearly unbothered.

I rolled my eyes and shut off the truck. “I’m going to check in with everyone. Try not to take over the world while I’m gone,” I joked.

“I’m not that power-hungry,” he replied, but there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. I had a feeling he had been helping with the war effort in his own devious way. The Chinese military’s constant network and communication issues didn’t seem entirely coincidental.

Leaving the truck, I made my way back to the MCV, where I found Major Pixiewolf standing outside in full uniform. She looked troubled, a deep worry etched across her face. As I passed her, she caught my arm and asked if we could speak privately. I nodded, and we walked away from the MCV to a quiet corner behind the loaded trailers. Once we were out of earshot, I crossed my arms and waited for her to speak.

"Please don’t tell anyone about my other form," Major Pixiewolf said, her voice laced with vulnerability. She looked at me with pleading eyes, and I arched an eyebrow, crossing my arms.

"Why would you think I would?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Um… because you’re the alpha of this team, and you could easily divulge my secret if you chose to," she replied, her tone uncertain.

"Major," I said, my voice steady, "it’s not my secret to tell. That would undermine the trust we need to build. We’re going to be relying on each other out there, and trust is everything." Her shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension easing out of her.

"Thank you, Alpha Acosta," she said, sounding a bit more composed.

"Look, you’re part of this team now. We all have our secrets, things we’d rather keep hidden. I’m not in any position to share anyone else’s secrets when I’m not willing to share my own," I explained, trying to reassure her.

She nodded, then hesitated before speaking again. "Not many people know what I really am. They just assume I’m a pixie, even though my last name is a dead giveaway."

"If you don’t mind me asking, what are you really?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"My family and I are… well, we’re a bit of an enigma. We’re a cross between pixies and werewolves," she admitted, her voice tinged with both pride and caution.

My eyes widened in surprise. "I didn’t even know crossbreeding was possible," I said, astonished. The only hybrids I knew of were Star and Cayro, and even then, their twin daughters were a mystery—Seren seemed human, while Celestia showed signs of being draconian.

"Pixies are closer to humans than most people think. We just happen to have magic that we draw from the earth’s ley lines. A long time ago, one of my ancestors mated with a werewolf, and she gained the abilities of both species," Major Pixiewolf explained, a hint of pride in her voice.

"Wow," I murmured, still processing the revelation.

"Yeah, so I can shift into a small wolf. But unlike your kind of magic, our pixie magic makes us shift into a smaller form," she added.

"More like a tiny, cute wolf," I teased with a grin.

She huffed, crossing her arms defensively, but the scowl she gave me was more adorable than intimidating. I clapped her on the shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile. "You don’t have to worry about me sharing your secret. It’s safe with me," I promised.

"What about Mac? She seems eager to share it," she countered, her worry creeping back.

"I don’t think she will, but I’m sure she’ll use it to tease you. I’ll talk to her about it," I assured her.

She nodded, and we walked back to the MCV together, where the rest of the team was waiting. As Major Pixiewolf slipped inside, Steve emerged. They passed each other without a word or even a glance, still clearly embarrassed by the morning’s events.

"Alright, everyone, let’s get ready to head out. We need to be rolling by eight so we can meet up with our escorts at the rendezvous point," Steve announced, snapping everyone into action.

"Who’s taking the lead?" Sasha asked, looking around.

"Good question," Steve replied. "Here’s the lineup: Lyra, you’re in the lead. Your rig is the most armored in the fleet. Charlotte, Seth, and Azura, you’ll follow behind Lyra. Jake, you’ll lead the RGN trucks. The FRS is the heaviest truck, so keeping it in the middle ensures we can assist if needed. The order within the two groups is up to you."

We all nodded, heading to our trucks. On my way, I stopped by the MCV to have a quick word with Mac.

"Hey, you haven’t told anyone about what we found out this morning, have you?" I asked, lowering my voice.

"Nope," she replied with a sly grin. "I’m keeping that little secret in my back pocket."

"Good. The major’s worried about it," I said, relieved.

"As long as she doesn’t piss me off again, I won’t have any reason to use it," Mac said with a shrug.

"I don’t think she will. This morning was embarrassing enough for her," I noted.

Mac grinned and climbed up into the MCV. "As long as she knows I’m a revengeful flame ball, we shouldn’t have any more problems," she said with a smirk before the door closed behind her.

I sighed and climbed into my truck, sliding my headset on as I mounted the tablet into its cradle. The new radio that Mac had installed yesterday sat within reach, gleaming with readiness. I flipped it on and linked all three devices together, feeling the subtle hum of connectivity. As soon as the systems were linked, I activated the group channel on my tablet. The chatter of the team buzzed lightly through my earpiece—random conversations filling the early morning air—before I spoke up.

"Alright, everyone, are we ready to roll?" I asked, my voice cutting through the banter.

One by one, the names on my tablet turned green, signaling that the team was ready. Steve’s voice soon followed, confirming our status.

"Lyra, mission is green to go," Steve announced, his tone calm yet focused.

"This is Alpha Acosta; mission is a go. As directed, fall in order as assigned. MCV in the lead, flat decks follow me. FRS follow the flat decks. RGNs follow the FRS. We do not stop for anything until we reach the rendezvous point in Council Bluffs, Iowa," I commanded, sliding the shifter into first gear and releasing the brakes.

As I eased out of my parking spot, Scuzball appeared on my screen, pulling up a GPS map of our route. With a theatrical flourish, he made a captain’s hat appear in his paw, flipping it onto his head with a smug grin. His ears poked out from the top of the hat, the SkyTeam Aerospace Foundation logo gleaming just above the brim.

"Good morning, everyone, this is your GPS Captain speaking. I will be your guide on this mission, ensuring we stay on course for our delivery," he announced in a cheerful, authoritative tone.

"We will be making a right onto NE 22nd Street upon departure from the Ankeny yard. From there, a right turn onto SE Corporate Woods Drive, followed by an immediate right onto the I-35 South ramp. Within one point five miles, we will then take the I-80 west ramp," he continued, his voice smooth and confident.

I couldn’t help but grin at my digital companion. Scuzball was going to make this trip far more entertaining. As I shifted up to a higher gear, the gate of the Ankeny yard came into view, and my team fell in line behind me as instructed. Company personnel were already shutting down the road for us, and I slowed just enough to make the turn without stopping, giving them a quick wave before accelerating.

Steve’s voice broke through the channel, interrupting the growing chatter. "Alpha, what is this cat thing currently sitting on our screens?" he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and confusion.

"Oh, everyone! Meet 1337-J2 A.I., also known as Scuzball. He’ll be joining us on our mission. You can thank the Zaraki family for sending him to tag along," I announced, trying to keep the amusement out of my voice.

"An A.I.!" Major Pixiewolf gasped, clearly caught off guard.

"Correct!" Scuzball chimed in, not missing a beat.

"We have an A.I. at our disposal?" Cain asked, sounding both impressed and a bit wary.

"Not at your disposal. I am at Lyra’s disposal, being that she is a member of the Zaraki Family," Scuzball corrected with a tone that bordered on smug.

"I was never told we’d have an A.I. with us," the major declared, her voice laced with irritation.

"He was kind of a last-minute tag along," I explained, trying to smooth things over.

"Well, I should have been informed. I’ll need to let the upper brass know about it," she insisted, her tone sharp.

"That won’t be necessary, Major. Colonel Zaraki has already informed them. Also, I am not an 'it'… I am a 'him'," Scuzball grumbled, his pride clearly wounded, eliciting a few chuckles from the team.

For the next two hours, I listened as Major Pixiewolf and Scuzball swapped barbs about military protocol and the finer points of A.I. self-awareness. Scuzball, ever the resourceful entity, even went so far as to call President Clark directly to prove his competence. The President, less than thrilled to hear from his old ship A.I., nonetheless assured the Major that Scuzball was one of the best resources we had.

The Major, who had been bristling with indignation, clammed up the moment President Clark answered the call. He wished us all good luck and told me directly to come home safe, adding that he didn’t want to deal with an upset adopted draconian daughter. I promised him I would, and as soon as the call ended, the Major and Scuzball resumed their bickering, while questions from the rest of the team flooded in.

The joys of being an adopted member of one of the leading families of the Free States of America.

As we rolled into Council Bluffs, Scuzball directed us to take the exit for Madison Avenue and pull into an old Menards hardware store parking lot. One by one, we parked side by side, lining up our trucks with mine in the lead. The sight of our convoy, a formidable force in motion, sent a thrill of both pride and apprehension through me. After popping the brakes, I climbed out of the cab and joined the rest of the team as we waited.

It didn’t take long before four black JLTVs (Joint Light Tactical Vehicles) rumbled into the parking lot, their presence immediately commanding attention. As they parked, seven men emerged, each one clad in full blacked-out military gear and body armor, their dark sunglasses adding an extra layer of intimidation. These were no ordinary soldiers. Magazines and pouches adorned their vests, pistols hung low on their thighs, and their M-4 carbines with high-end optics were slung at the low ready. Everything about them screamed precision, power, and deadly efficiency.

Major Pixiewolf, despite her small stature, walked confidently to meet them as they approached. The size difference was almost comical, but the respect in the air was palpable. She handed one of the men a small stack of papers, and after a brief exchange, they saluted her. She returned the salute before speaking, her voice steady but carrying the weight of authority.

Narrowing my hearing, I caught their conversation.

“Where is Major Stoneclaw?” she asked, her tone businesslike.

“He’ll be here…” the lead man replied in a deep, raspy voice, glancing at his watch. “Momentarily.”

Just as the word left his mouth, a deep, booming roar echoed through the morning air, sending a shiver down my spine. That sound, so primal and terrifying, struck a chord deep within me. I had fought alongside creatures that made that very sound years ago during the first battle. The memories it conjured were as vivid as they were chilling.

Seconds later, the ground shook as a massive, monstrous reptilian form landed behind the JLTVs, its arrival a literal earth-shaking event. The creature unfurled enormous black wings that cast a shadow over the entire parking lot. A long, serpentine neck, lined with jagged spikes, stretched out over the JLTVs, and its bright golden eyes gleamed with an intensity that pierced straight through me. The dragon—no, this black dragon—was gargantuan, easily the size of two of our rigs combined. It exuded an aura of raw, terrifying power.

Standing before this behemoth, I felt a mix of awe and dread. God help us if we ever ended up on the wrong side of this team. Because I knew who they were—the silver patches on their right arms confirmed it. These were the elite special forces unit of the FS Army, a unit commanded by Dr. Zaraki’s adopted son, Star’s older brother.

This was no ordinary escort. This was the embodiment of military might, the teeth and claws of the Free States of America. And now, they were our protectors.