Razors Edge: Sci Fi Progression

Dr. Kosta

"Any luck?" Sorrel asked as she worked frantically alongside Dr. Lorin and Dr. More on synthesizing a better delivery system for the nites.

"The reduced gravity is not helping." Dr. More said, but she was not giving up.

Sorrel's mind kept drifting to Lev knowing they were already under attack—or worse.

"You're going to burn out the molecular assembler if you push it any harder," Dr. Lorin placed a hand on her shoulder as she adjusted the fabrication parameters for the third time in ten minutes.

Sorrel looked up, realizing she'd been staring at the nanite production readouts without really seeing the numbers. "Sorry. I keep thinking about what they're facing out there."

"They're doing everything they can to survive just like we are, right?"

Sorrel was nodding, and she could believe it. "Yes, they're not ones to give up either."

"How's the production rate?

"Holding at forty-seven doses per hour," Dr. Lorin reported, monitoring the fabrication readouts. "The premium materials Nyx brought from Ring-14 are performing better than expected."

"Still not fast enough," Dr. More said grimly. "Peyton's convoy has approximately eighty personnel and multiple ships. Even at maximum production, we'll arrive at Sigma with maybe four thousand doses."

"It's got to be better than nothing, right?"

Sorrel forced herself to focus on the molecular assembly parameters rather than spiraling into worst-case scenarios. "What about modifying the nanites for a different delivery?"

"Theoretically possible," Dr. Lorin replied, studying the data swirling between them. "We could optimize for extraction resistance at the expense of general medical applications."

"Do it. How much more effective?"

"Potentially forty percent increase in extraction resistance, but the nanites would be useless for other medical emergencies."

"Make the modifications. They will need this on the frontline, more than general medical support."

"Captain Crai, Doctor. Commander Kestat's vital signs are approaching critical levels."

Sorrel's hands stilled on the synthesizer controls. Through the lab's viewport, she could see the CIC where Kestat maintained their lethal formation with Markov's ship, the Pogue, his base suit's radiation warnings flashing continuously in hellish red.

"How long has he been exposed now?" Dr. Lorin asked, already moving toward medical supplies.

"Two hours, twenty-one minutes of exposure at ten meters," Nyx replied, his voice carrying what sounded almost like distress. "Cellular damage is accelerating rapidly."

"I'm on my way," Sorrel said.

"We've compressed what should have been a controlled four-week journey into eighteen hours—No one human was meant for this. His radiation exposure is acute."

"Medical team to CIC. Emergency extraction protocols, now!"

Sorrel grabbed their strongest nanite doses and a full medical kit. "Dr. More, keep the synthesizers running. I'll be back as soon as I can."

The CIC was hot, even in her gear. Emergency lighting cast everything in blood-red shadows, and Kestat's environmental suit was reporting radiation levels that should have killed him hours ago. Somehow, he was still conscious, and maintaining their precise formation with the lead ship, his hands steady on controls while his body was dying around him.

"Commander, we're pulling you out now," Crai ordered, her voice cracked.

"Formation will collapse," Kestat replied through gritted teeth. Blood visibly trickled from his nose inside the helmet's visor, and his face had taken on a sickly grey pallor. "Give me ten more minutes. Carrol's can't hold out till you reach them."

"You don't have ten more minutes." The fact was, he'd already gone past the point of no return, and he knew it.

"Report Doctor," Crai asked.

"Acute radiation poisoning, stage four. Multiple organ system failure. Another ten minutes and—"

"I know what it means, Doctor," Kestat interrupted. "If I let go of these controls, we lose the slipstream. Engine stress goes critical, and we all die anyway."

"Sergeant Carrol emergency relief, now!" Crai called into her comm.

Sorrel might have only known the woman and her crew a short time, but they were as close as family. The fact she had let Kestat pilot in the first place, told Sorrel everything she needed to know about her as command. "The need of many outweighs the one."

"What's that?" Kestat asked.

"Nothing," she said, she hadn't meant to say it aloud.

Sergeant Carrol burst into the CIC, taking in the scene with professional assessment.

"I said no," Kestat said. "Nyx timing?"

"Two more minutes," Nyx replied. "Then he'll survive."

"That's an order Carrol!" Crai said. "Take those controls off him or I'll throw you in the brig as soon as you're done!

Carrol was unsure who to listen to, he looked to Sorrel his eyes pleading.

Kestat convulsed suddenly, his body seizing as radiation-damaged neurons misfired. The ship lurched violently to port. Alarms screamed as they nearly collided with the Pogue's hull. Somehow, through sheer force of will, Kestat managed to correct their course and maintain the formation.

"Jesus Christ, Eric, please." Crai whispered.

"Still here," he managed, blood now flowing freely from his nose and ears now. "Just... just a little longer."

"Formation parameters are locked into the navigation system," Kestat said, each word clearly costing him enormous effort. "Maintain ten-point-three meters off their bow, twenty meters below engine centerline. Deviation tolerance is plus or minus point-five meters."

"Understood, sir. I have the conn."

Carrol slid into position as Kestat finally, carefully, lifted his hands from the controls. The formation held—barely till Carrol could sit properly and focus.

"Medical bay, now," Sorrel ordered, supporting Kestat as he collapsed. His legs had given out completely.

"I'll meet you there." Crai said.

Once in the medical bay, Sorrel linked in the medbot and did a full assessment. It confirmed her worst fears.

"Report, how is he?"

"Radiation exposure approximately eight hundred rem over four and a half hours," she reported quietly. "Bone marrow destruction is complete. Gastrointestinal tract lining is sloughing off. Central nervous system damage is extensive."

"Can the nites help?" Crai rushed in, heading straight for them. Her expression showed she understood the futility.

"They will ease his pain and give you some time together, but Eric..." Sorrel placed her hand gently on Crai's shoulder.

"I should have pulled him out sooner, rotate in others."

"You knew he was the only one other than Nyx who could hold this long."

Crai's eyes filled with tears. "How do we… how do I?"

Sorrel nodded to his bed. "Sit with him, hold his hand and just be there."

Dr. More moved into Sorrel's side. He withstood radiation levels that would kill most people in minutes. That he lasted this long...is…"

"Military-grade stubbornness," Kestat managed from the medical bed, "Nothing else." Crai approached carefully. "Did we make the time we needed?"

"Two hours, forty-three minutes to intercept Peyton's fleet," Crai said, gripping his hand and lying through her tears. "You did it, Eric. You did it."

"Good." His breathing became more labored. His lungs were filling with fluid as every system shut down.

"I—" Crai couldn't find words.

"They're good people, Feath. They're worth dying for."

Sorrel moved to his other side, administered their strongest nanite dose. She watched as the microscopic machines attempt repairs that were beyond any medical technology and sighed. The nanites could reduce his suffering, but they couldn't rebuild organs that had been destroyed at the cellular level.

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"Don't cry," Kestat said. "You did what I trained you for."

"Order you to your death? What kind of mentor trains someone for that?"

"One who understands the way the universe works."

"It should have bee—"

"Someone else?"

"No one else could have done it like you did," she said.

"Exactly. You know it, I know it. The whole crew knows it."

"But—"

"Nothing…" his eyes drifted, looking to nothing.

Sorrel slipped in some more pain relief. "Better?"

On his nod she stepped back again giving them some more room.

"Remember that colony world you wanted to retire to?" Crai asked, her voice breaking. "The one with the purple sunsets and the good fishing?"

"Kepler-438b," Eric smiled. "Still planning on it. Maybe... maybe after this mission."

They both knew better.

"Captain, we're approaching scan distance to Peyton's last known location." Nyx interrupted. "First scans of the asteroid belt coming in. There's a debris field ahead—energy signatures are consistent with consciousness extraction weapons discharge."

"When?" Dr. Lorin asked. "A few hours ago. I'm picking up multiple ship signatures, but interference is preventing detailed analysis to who they belong."

The silence that followed was deafening. Crai's grip on Kestat's hand tightened until her knuckles went white.

"Professional analysis?" she asked, her voice hollow.

"Debris field is extensive. Cannot determine origin without closer examination. Could be Coalition, Braker, or..." Nyx's voice trailed off meaningfully.

"Both," Crai finished.

Kestat's eyes focused with effort on Captain Crai's face. "Then you push harder. Whatever it costs. I didn't..." He coughed. Specks of blood appeared on his lips and panic in his eyes. "Feath…"

"I'm here," she said and leaned over.

"I've never said…"

"You never had to say."

When Kestat reached up, and didn't have the strength Crai put his hand to her face. "I love you," she said, "You're the father I always wanted. The commander who never walked away from me, no matter how much I pushed."

Kestat laughed, then coughed. "And I let you push me," he said. "Always will."

When the Retribution shook, Crai commed for the Chief. "Report."

"The engines are already beyond maximum safe parameters," Valdez warned from his monitoring station. "Any additional stress could result in catastrophic failure."

Crai looked to Sorrel. "Are you ready?"

"We're ready, everything we have will be moved asap to the Pogue."

"Command staff, drop out of burn. Move, move now."

Crai knew everyone jumped on her orders, everyone but Sorrel.

"You—"

"I'm not leaving you, not yet. We go together."

Crai focused back on her friend… no, her father. His grip on her hand tightened briefly, his radiation-ravaged body summoning one last moment of strength. "Tell the Chief..." His voice was barely a whisper now, each word a monumental effort. "Tell him to keep that light on." He coughed again, his hand going limp. "And, please. Keep that brother of yours in check."

"I will," Crai said, tears flowing freely now.

"One last thing, daughter," his eyes were fading now. "Find someone to love."

"I promise," Crai was still nodding. "I—I will."

But Commander Eric Kestat's eyes had already closed for the last time.

"I'm so sorry," Sorrel said her voice giving way to her own emotions.

Crai covered Kestat's face with his blanket. "Retribution," she hit for comms. "It has been an honor. We will return for you. I also promise you that." She looked to Sorrel. "One last thing for me, to the airlock."

Sorrel swallowed but took the side of Kestat's bed.

Once at the airlock, Crai kissed the top of Kestat's forehead once more. "Goodbye father." Then she recited the most gut-wrenching verse Sorrel had ever heard.

"Into the black, we go," Crai whispered leaning over to kiss his forehead, "with only the lights from our ancestors to guide us.

We hold no fear through the darkness, feeling our way as though it blinds us.

When we can travel no further, and the light starts to fade…When Crai hit the button. She closed her eyes briefly. "We will join the void with the love that you forever gave."

Arm in arm they ran for the Pogue. Sorrel looked at Crai with understanding. She'd heard the lie too.

"Nyx," Crai said as they crossed the docking clamp. "Real intercept time?"

"Eighteen hours, forty-seven minutes at maximum sustainable burn," Nyx replied gently. "Captain Markov reports the Pogue's engines are also showing critical stress. We'll need to reduce acceleration or risk losing her as well."

"He died believing he'd saved them," Sorrel whispered.

"And maybe he did. Just... not as quickly as we told him." Crai wiped her eyes. "Reduce burn to seventy percent, we've fully abandoned the Retribution."

Sorrel frowned. "Will you come back?"

Crai tapped her comms. "Nyx, set self-destruct sequence for thirty minutes. Leave nothing at all to chance."

Sorrel tightened her grip on the captain. She was doing her best to hold herself together, but Sorrel knew that wasn't the case, she stopped walking, and pulled her into a hug.

"I've got you," Sorrel soothed.

"Self-destruct is set," Nyx replied.

"Get us the hell out of here," Crai said between sobs, then she turned her face into Sorrel's shoulder and cried for everything she was worth.

Peyton

"Damage report," I said sitting next to Mac, though the red lights flashing across every console already told most of the story.

We'd both had treatment and then ran for CIC as fast as possible despite the doctors warnings. He took security, and Lia moved to navigation.

The Faulkner drifted behind a massive iron-nickel asteroid, her engines finally silent after the most punishing burn of her operational life.

Through the CIC's viewport, I could see chunks of rock and ice stretching in all directions—a maze that had saved us from Ranger finishing his extraction but an escape that might have cost us our ability to continue any mission. No one had said it, but she was done for. If we could ever repair her, it would be weeks in a dry dock.

The tactical display showed two green blips. Of the five ships that had started this journey, only two had reached the asteroid field.

"Derek, status report," I called to our remaining escort.

"Faulkner. Here, barely, but we're here. I've got seven conscious crew members out of forty-three. The consciousness scanning..." His pain was clear. "It was like watching my people disappear one by one." He stopped to cough. "We're operational for basic functions, but if we encounter hostile forces..."

"Understood, Manta-S. We'll protect each other." I turned to Lia. "Weapons hot."

"We're locked and loaded," she replied. "I can remote the Manta-S from here."

"You're not stretching?"

"We're all stretching," she said and dipped her head. "But we will not go down without a fight if they come for us."

I let out a breath. "Las?"

"Good news or bad news?"

"Bad news first." Mac said.

"Engine three is now completely offline," He reported. "You contained the breech."

"Engines one and two?"

"Running at thirty percent capacity. Molecular stress fractures throughout the injection systems, coolant pressure still dropping. We can maintain minimal propulsion, but anything approaching combat acceleration will finish them for good."

"We'd be dead in the water."

"What's the good news?"

"We haven't lost life support, and that 30% can fire weapons."

It was kind of good news.

Mac studied the engineering readouts with grim professionalism. "Range and speed estimates?"

"At current engine capacity, we can maintain 0.3c for approximately four days before mandatory shutdown," Las replied. "That gives us enough range to reach..."

"Nowhere strategically significant," he replied plugging in the range on our current location."

"Fuel situation?"

"Fuel consumption during the emergency burn depleted forty-three percent of our reserves. Combined with reduced engine efficiency, our operational range is cut by more than half."

"Derek?"

"We're at thirty percent, one engine down also."

Lev looked up from his security console. "Sensor contacts?" I risked.

"Negative." He replied. "The asteroid field is blocking long-range sensors, but it will also conceal us from Ranger's ships. They can't conduct consciousness extraction scans through this much mineral interference."

"How damaged do you think they are?"

"Unsure," Torres replied.

"How long till they make the decision to follow us?"

"Not long enough," Mac said. "Options?"

"We could pool resources from the Manta-S? Make one good one out of all of them?"

"How long would that take?"

"Too long," he sighed.

Our options it seemed were really limited.

I clicked comms to include Dr. Martinez. She was still coordinating treatment for the crew. "Casualties?"

"We've lost four," she replied, sadness evident in her tired face. "The nanites worked well. Everyone with protection has maintained full cognitive function."

"Prognosis for the crew we couldn't protect?"

"Unknown. We're in uncharted medical territory here. The neural patterns I'm seeing suggest partial consciousness extraction. It's not enough to cause them permanent damage, but it is enough to disrupt their higher brain functions temporarily."

"I've been analyzing the neural scans from the affected crew." Dr. Xian joined the conversation. "The damage patterns are consistent with consciousness mapping interference, but there's something unusual about the recovery rates."

"Unusual how?"

"Three of the unconscious crew are showing signs of pathway strengthening in regions that weren't directly affected by the scans. It's as if their brains are actively developing resistance."

"That is something." Lia's holographic form materialized beside the medical station, and finally there was no interference, no flickering. "I've also been analyzing the extraction patterns. From my side, the alien-derived technology was attempting to create complete neural maps of every crew member simultaneously."

"They didn't have enough power, did they?"

Lia shook her hear. "No, they were struggling, even with the little crews we had in our fleet."

"That's not all," Dr Martinez said. "Their scanning patterns suggest they were preparing to absorb our minds into multi-personality constructs."

"How close did they come to completing the mapping process?" Mac asked.

"Approximately seventy-three percent completion across the ship's population. Another twenty minutes of exposure would have provided sufficient data for mass consciousness extraction."

The fleets sacrifice, our possible losses, we'd just missed being mass harvested and more than likely turned as weapons against our own.

<<That was too close,>> I said to Lia.

<<Far too close.>>

"Captain," Pavel's voice came through the comm from engineering. "We've got a problem with engine threes rotor-radiator deployment system. The emergency acceleration damaged the deployment mechanism. Heat dissipation is compromised."

"Can you repair it?"

"Maybe, but we'd need to shut down all engines for at least six hours while we recalibrate the thermal management systems."

Six hours without propulsion in an asteroid field while being pursued by an enemy trying to take our minds.

"Lev, any sign of pursuit forces attempting to enter the asteroid field?"

"Negative, there's still nothing showing at all from the other side.

We had time and for once, I was glad we had the smaller ships, Tim on the other hand couldn't follow us at all with his. A blessing or a curse. We were about to find out.

I studied the tactical display, running calculations that all led to the same conclusion. We needed help, and we needed it soon.

***

Two hours later, I found myself in proper gear, with Pavel and Chief Las, working in the cramped space around engine three's cooling systems. The molecular stress fractures were visible to the naked eye, not a good sigh. Hairline cracks ran through injection manifolds that should have been solid metal.

"How bad is it really?" I asked Las as we examined the damage.

"Honestly, Captain? We're lucky the engines didn't explode during our escape. The molecular stress from running beyond maximum parameters created cascade failures throughout the injection systems." He pointed to a series of hair-thin cracks. "These fractures will propagate under stress. Push the engines too hard, and they'll come apart."

"I might have a solution, but it's not ideal." Pavel, working on an access panel nearby, looked up from his diagnostics. The kid was still full of surprises.

"Define not ideal." I asked.

"We can keep the coolant flow through secondary channels and use what's left of the ships nanites to reinforce the stress fractures. But it would require reducing maximum engine output to fifty percent of rated capacity."

"That's better than thirty," I pointed out.

"Yes, but the nanite reinforcement would be permanent and we'd be using medical nanites meant for other purposes. Once they're integrated into the engine systems, we can't remove them."

The choice wasn't really a choice. "How many nanites would it require?"

"Everything we have left."

If we encountered any medical emergencies we'd be screwed.

"Dr. Martinez," I called through the comm. "Thoughts?"

"If we're sure it will work…" Las said.

"It will work," she said. "Those nanites are designed for molecular reconstruction at the cellular level. Adapting them for metal matrix reinforcement is theoretically sound."

"But?"

"We're out of nites, totally out. I mean nothing at all."

"And if we don't repair the engines?"

"We remain defensible but immobile. Eventually, Ranger will find a way through the asteroid field."

"Captain, in my experience, mobility beats armor every time." Chief Las said. "A ship that can't move is nothing but a target waiting to be destroyed."

"Do it. Use the rest of the nanites for engine repair. Get us mobile and defensible."