Razors Edge: Sci Fi Progression

Like everyone else Mac had the opportunity to rest, but not Sigma-Seven Prime's station he wanted to stay with the ship, like a good Captain.

"You sure?" Peyton has asked, and he'd just nodded. Now stood in their bunk quarters staring at the comm terminal, his finger hovering over the connect button. No sooner had they a bit of time to decompress had the messages queued in his HUD. Seven attempts from his parents to get in tough.

"It won't go away the more you stare at it," Lia said.

His hand dropped. He should want to call them. He couldn't understand why pushing that call button was so hard.

"You've just been through a lot, speaking to them will make it seem even more real," she replied.

"Why do you make so much sense?"

"I've listened and been around you all for many months now. Human observation has been enlightening. Am I wrong?"

He shook his head and turned to find her holographic form manifesting near his desk. She looked better than she had three days ago, more solid, less prone to flickering.

"They will have seen the report from Kuba," Mac said. "They know I'm alive. That should be enough."

"Should it?"

He hesitated his hand drifting upwards once again. "Maybe."

"Or maybe they just want more, to see you to hear you, to know for real that you're okay." Lia's form solidified further, and he swallowed his emotions at her words. "You flew into a war zone, and helped co-ordinate a twelve-thousand-ship defense. You delivered consciousness protection technology across three-star systems."

Mac took it in. "You're right," but he couldn't push the button still.

He stared at the queue again. Seven messages. His father never sent seven messages about anything.

"What if they're still disappointed in our losses. Torres, the others… Ghost…"

"Robert," Lia said as his finger started to shake. "Make that call."

His real name hit a nerve, and he pressed the connect button before he could think about it anymore.

The terminal showed the lattice as it secured a connection to ONI. Mac knew it was being securely bounced around several systems before it could connect. He waited for a very long time and was about to stop the call when his father's face appeared on screen.

"Robert." His father's voice carried relief so profound it made Mac's chest tighten. "Thank the gods. We've been trying to reach you for—"

"I know. We've been kind of busy." Mac kept his tone neutral.

"We thought you'd… but we got Kuba's report." His mother appeared beside his father, "About Sigma-Seven. About the battle. That was Nyx, wasn't it? And Lia?"

"Yes," Mac straightened his back. He was proud of his team."

"What about Commissioner Ranger?" Thomas asked. "We're hearing rumors right through ONI?"

Mac hesitated. Operational security said don't confirm classified details. But these were his parents. "We engaged his forces. They retreated. That's all I can say."

"You look different," His father leaned forward. "You're changed. When we saw you, just after the Academy, you were... scattered. Angry. Looking for something. Now—" He paused, searching for words. "Now you look like you found it."

Mac didn't know what to say to that. It was true, he had found everything he had ever wanted, right here, with Peyton, Lev and Sorrel.

"I wanted to make a difference," Mac said quietly. "A real difference. Not just to follow orders. Not just being another cog in a military machine. I wanted—" He stopped, the words catching.

"To matter," Thomas finished. "To be more than your surname. More than our expectations."

Mac stared at his father. "Yeah. That."

"And you are." Thomas's expression shifted, his pride, clear and unmistakable. "Mac, do you know what the report said about Sigma-Seven? About the crew that delivered consciousness protection technology to Admiral Kuba. About the coordination that saved thousands of lives?"

"We did our job."

"You changed the frontline war," Catherine said firmly. "That's not doing a job. That's... that's extraordinary."

Mac felt something loosen in his chest. Tension he'd likely carried for weeks without realizing it.

There was silence for a while. Then his father coughed. "Your next job is to the Krays."

"The Krays is months from Sigma-Seven at standard cruise," his mother continued, "But Ranger's forces are regrouping. Even we're getting reports that indicate he's consolidating survivors, rebuilding his fleet to counter. You don't have months."

"We have the Faulkner and whatever escort Admiral Kuba can spare," Mac said. "It'll have to be enough."

"It won't be," his father said, anger surfacing. "Which is why ONI is coordinating a fast-response fleet to meet you halfway. Heavy escorts, and intelligence support. We're turning your convoy into a priority asset with full Coalition backing."

"You're giving us an armed escort to the Krays?"

"We're giving you everything you need to get there alive and deliver that technology," his mother said. "Admiral Kuba's daughter died protecting Lia and this research. We're not letting Ranger take another shot at you."

"There's more," his father added. "When you reach the Krays, ONI has arranged for manufacturing specialists to meet with you. We want Lia working with the Krays' AI research division. We want Nyx coordinating with Coalition tactical networks. And we want your crew training the next wave of protected crews."

"You're turning us into a program," Mac realized. "We can't be the face of this operation."

"What?" his mother asked. "Everything you've accomplished. The human-AI coordination, the consciousness protection, the tactical innovations. That needs to spread across Coalition space. You're not just a freighter crew anymore, Mac. You're the model for how we win this war."

Mac looked at Lia, who was frowning. "That's... that's a lot of pressure. But it can't be us. We have to stay as Frost's is, under the radar."

Mac could see his mother was about to pop, but his father stepped in.

"I want you to know, we're damned proud of you," his father finished. "Not because you followed our plan. Because you found your own path and it turned out to matter more than we ever imagined."

Mac knew tears leaked out the corner of his eyes, and he wiped them away. "I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll at least accept the escort," his mother replied. "Say you'll make it to the Krays safely. Say you'll keep doing what you've been doing—surviving impossible odds."

"And say you'll come visit when you can," his father added, softer.

Mac laughed through the tears. "I'll make it. We'll make it. And yes—when this is over, I'll bring everyone home. You can then interrogate them properly."

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"We prefer 'thorough debriefing,'" his mother said with the hint of a smile. Her sudden anger and pain gone.

"Calls about to drop," Lia warned.

"Call us again when you can," his mom said.

"I will," he just had the time to hear. "We love you."

When the screen went dark, Mac sat in silence.

"Feel better?" Lia asked.

"Yes," Mac admitted. "I do."

"Good. Because Peyton wants everyone on the bridge in ten minutes. Admiral Kuba's calling with mission updates."

Mac stood, straightened his uniform, "Then better not keep him waiting, we have another mission to plan."

The mess hall was crowded when Mac stepped inside. Not just the Faulkner's crew, but the commanders from each of their small convoy. Despite their obvious exhaustion they were all smiling. Captain Crai sat with her brother Derek, and Sorrel occupied a corner table, heads close together in quiet conversation. Even Nyx stood looking out of the viewer.

Peyton stood at the center of it all, his hand on hip, looking relaxed and at least somewhat rested.

"Thank you for coming," he said as the room quieted. "I know we've had some rest, but we're all still exhausted, even I am. I know you've been through hell, I was right there with you."

There were murmurs of agreement.

"But right now. Right this moment. We're here. Together. Alive." He looked around the room moved to a cabinet, and pulled out a bottle of liquor.

"That was Ashley's hidden bottle." Lia said.

Peyton nodded and popped the cork. "There's been a couple but this one was special. It was supposed to be for this occasion, when the Faulkner made it to her father."

"Someone mention me?" Kuba said from the door.

"Admiral on deck," someone called.

But he held up his hand. "At ease, please."

Peyton poured the first measure and held it out for the Admiral, then he passed it around. Till everyone had a drink. "I wanted us to have this. To remember what we're fighting for. Not just the consciousness protection or defeating Braker. But this. Each other. The bonds we've built. The family we've become."

Lev raised his glass. "To family."

"To family," the room echoed.

Mac found himself standing beside Peyton, looking out at faces he'd come to know over six impossible months. These weren't just crewmates. They were—

"Family," he murmured.

Peyton glanced at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just..." Mac gestured at the room. "I talked to my parents, then this, it's a lot."

Sorrel linked her arm in his and Lev's "We're here for you too," she said.

"Through all of it?" he asked.

"Exactly,"

"Now let's eat, and work out this next mission. We have updates from the Admiral and ONI."

The room fell into normal conversation, and it felt good. Human.

Mac let Lia pick his food for him and then he ate slowly, savoring food that tasted like more than rations. Around him, conversations flowed. Crai was explaining how Derek's Manta-S had pulled off an impossible maneuver at Sigma-Seven to the Admiral. Nyx was teaching someone basic AI consciousness theory and Sorrel was reviewing medical protocols while simultaneously stealing food from Lev's plate.

It was chaotic and warm and alive.

Kuba moved to sit near Mac and Peyton. "You like this ship?" he asked.

Mac finished chewing before he said. "She's been a great ship, yes."

"Been?" Peyton asked.

"She has served you well, but let's be honest. She's held together by Lia's will and Mac's navigation skill at this point. The damage from Ranger's attacks, she's earned her retirement."

Mac felt his stomach drop. The Faulkner had become home.

"Which is why," Kuba continued, "Coalition Command has authorized you to take the top of the fleets design. Our engineers are fitting her out for you with everything we can spare." He indicated the center of the table, and brought up a schematic rotating it. "She's being built at the Krays. Should be ready when you arrive. Consider it a thank you—and an investment in the future."

The room was silent.

"A new Faulkner?" Peyton asked. Mac could see his pain, and understood it, this Faulkner was Ashley's.

"We're not forgetting her," Sorrel said. "But we do need a better ship."

"I agree with that," Lev said. "She's past it."

"Will need major repairs," Mac added.

"It will still be your Faulkner," Kuba said softly. "Built for your crew, your mission, your way of operating. Human and AI, working together. Everything Ashley envisioned, made real."

Lev raised his glass. "To the new Faulkner."

"To the new Faulkner," the room echoed.

Kuba coughed, "But that's not just why I'm here though," his expression shifted to one of worry. Even if Mac hadn't known him long, he knew that face.

"Go on," Peyton prodded.

"The Krays is months away even with good fuel. The problem is Ranger is also rebuilding. We've intercepted communications, that he's pulling in assets from across Braker-controlled space. By the time you reach the Krays, he'll have a new fleet."

"So we need to move fast," Peyton said.

"You need to move smart," Kuba corrected. "Which is why ONI—at the request of Commander Taves's parents are providing a full escort fleet. There will be a further six heavy cruisers, eight destroyers, support vessels, and intelligence assets ready for you. They'll be meeting you at the midpoint, to ensure you reach the Krays safely."

Mac blinked. "That was more than I was expecting."

"You spoke to them?"

"Briefly, about an hour ago, yes."

"Then you know they don't hang around. Their plan is already in motion and those ships are on the way to meet you." Kuba smiled. "But the mission isn't just about getting you to the Krays safely. It's about what happens when you arrive."

He pulled up another display, This one showed manufacturing facilities, research stations, and fleet coordination networks. The lines all interconnected like a jigsaw. Mac stared at it and then looked to Peyton who was absorbed.

Nyx moved to get a closer look. "The Krays has the infrastructure to mass-produce consciousness protection at a scale we can't."

"Exactly," Kuba said. "They have AI research divisions that want to study what you and Lia have accomplished. They have medical facilities and automated systems like no other."

Nyx looked to Lev. "But I must stay here," he said.

Lev was about to protest, but Sorrel took his hand in hers and squeezed. "We know," she said. "We understand."

"The Krays have extensive space fleets, trade routes through the known areas of the Coalition. This is fascinating. Everything Frost's needs to seriously be put on the map."

"They can't know it was us," Mac said.

"Agreed," Peyton said. "We will deliver as we must, even with the escort, but the escort will take the protection detail in. Not us. To anyone watching we were just there at the time."

"They have twenty-three capital ships, hundreds of support vessels, all unprotected." Lia said. "Brakers would have a field day." Lia turned to Peyton. "We must get there before they do. We must."

"Your mission while travelling is to spread the research as far and wide as possible. Then when you arrive deploy consciousness protection across their command structure, train their crews in AI coordination, and turn the Krays into the second protected stronghold of Coalition space."

Peyton leaned back. "That's... a lot more than just delivering technology."

"We're going to take what you've built, everything you know and spread it across Coalition space. System by system, fleet by fleet, until everyone is protected."

"And Ranger?" Lev asked.

Mac's stomach churned. That fight was no where near over yet, they all knew it.

"He's gone to ground, but we are hunting for him, so is ONI."

"He'll come after us again," Sorrel said. "Even if we're in a new ship with an escort."

"I have no doubt he will," Kuba admitted. "You will be his primary target, but you've also made yourself too valuable for us to lose."

"No pressure," Mac muttered.

"Doubting yourself, commander?" Kuba smiled. "You've been operating under impossible pressure for months and you're still alive. Still fighting. Still winning. I think you can handle this little escort mission to the Krays."

Peyton's face darkened. "Admiral," he said. "Permission to speak freely."

"Of course," he replied.

"If Ranger comes for us again, I won't hesitate this time."

The Admiral's lips thinned. "What are you saying?"

"I will kill him."

Peyton's voice was cold, nothing like he had been moments before.

"What if there are innocent people on board his ships?" Sorrel asked, and she reached for the liquor bottle to pour herself one more, before passing it to Mac.

"What he has done to them, what they are is not innocent anymore. Do not expect mercy."

Sorrel downed her drink, and nodded. "Understood, Captain."

"Even if it goes against your medical oath?"

She nodded again and moved in closer to Lev. Lev pulled her in tight and held on. "We both understand," he added.

"Agreed," Mac put the bottled down. "No mercy."

***

Later, after the alcohol had worn off, Mac found himself alone on the observation deck, watching Sigma-Seven's fleet move with the grace only Nyx would have.

Plus twelve thousand ships. All protected. All ready. Come what may.

"Can't sleep?" a voice asked.

Mac turned to find Peyton standing beside him, looking more at peace than he'd seen him in months.

"Just thinking," Mac replied.

"About?"

"About how different things were twelve months ago." He gestured at the fleet. "Now we're part of something so much bigger than I ever dreamed of and it matters."

"What you did always mattered, Mac. You just needed to believe it."

"You sound like my parents."

"Can't beat the truth. But the important thing is that you do now believe it, right."

Mac watched another ship drift past—a destroyer fresh from the yards, Sigma-Seven not only had the tech now, but the power behind it to back it up. He felt a pang of regret though, as much as Nyx was Brakers, he had become a part of their small crew, without him, Sorrel might not have been able to save Peyton, and… that didn't bare thinking about.

"You think we'll survive what's coming?" Mac asked.

Peyton was quiet for a long moment. "I don't know. If Ranger does pull other ships in from Brakers. His fleet could be massive. Add in the consciousness extraction capabilities and if he's been re-coding it again. It could exceed anything we're prepared for." Peyton looked at him, his brows furrowed. "What if he gets through our defenses—"

"He won't." Lia said and appeared before them.

Mac turned to face her. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I've seen what you and Peyton, Sorrel and Lev can do. Because I've watched this crew survive everything thrown at them."

"He's built from stolen consciousness, minds forced together. But we chose this. Chose each other. That makes us stronger than anything he could ever be."

Lia smiled. "When did you become such an optimist?"

"What seems like a long time ago." Peyton said. "When a crazy Commander offered me a position on his crew and I was dumb enough to say yes."

"Best decision you ever made, right?" Mac asked.

"Second best," Peyton corrected. "Best was breaking into the academy and then inserting an unknown chip into my head."

"Aww shucks," Lia said, "You're making me blush."

They both laughed and it was the best laugh he had in a while.