Razors Edge: Sci Fi Progression

Day 2

No point trying to sleep, this all-nighter wouldn't be my last. I stood in the center of my tiny room, my packed bag sitting by the door. The reality of leaving everything else behind sank in, but so did the enormity of what lay ahead.

After a drink and wolfing a protein bar, I sat on the edge of my bed, pulling out my datapad and syncing it with my port again. My HUD flickered to life, illuminating the clutter with a soft blue glow.

NOS-DOLI v1.17 Online
User: Piotr Argassa – Cadet Tag Pending
Cognitive Performance Modules – Linked

Tutorial Synchronization: 87%

I accessed the academy's syllabus, scrolling through advanced orbital mechanics, resource allocation, and tactical navigation. These subjects that might have looked daunting to most people, not me. I barely understood half the terms, but that only fueled my determination to learn them.

"Doli, let's try to load the class tutorial now," I asked.

<<Tutorial uploading… do you wish to play it now?>>

<<No time like the present,>> I replied. "Yes."

The HUD transformed into a starfield, dotted with glowing waypoints. It was beautiful and intimidating all at once.

A 3D virtual-reality scene unfurled before me in my room. I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Welcome, cadets, to the Razors Space Academy, where your journey to the stars begins."

The holographic instructor droned on, listing course modules and expectations with all the enthusiasm of a funeral director. My initial excitement quickly faded as data points and complex diagrams flashed by too fast to comprehend. A quick glance at my HUD showed that this was just the introduction, there were seven more modules to follow.

Astrodynamics and Orbital Mechanics: "The backbone of any successful mission. You will master spacecraft navigation and trajectory planning."

Astronomy and Planetary Science: "Understand the celestial bodies you'll encounter. Learn to read the language of the stars."

Spacecraft Systems and Engineering: "Learn the inner workings of the ships you'll pilot and maintain."

Survival in Space: "Prepare for the unpredictable. From zero-gravity protocols to emergency scenarios, this training will keep you alive."

I leaned forward, absorbing every word. Mostly because I needed to. The scope of the academy was vast, almost overwhelming, how I wanted this.

The hologram continued its droning monologue, and I resisted the urge to yawn. "Put some effort into it, please," I said, hoping for a miracle.

It froze for a moment, then tilted its head like a confused parrot. "Of course," it replied with a tone so dripping in sarcasm, it could've lubricated an entire spaceship. "I can absolutely put some effort into it." This time, it slapped the board with a stick for dramatic effect. I nearly leaped out of my skin. Well, at least it was something.

"Now, let's dive into our Specialized Training Modules," it continued, practically oozing insincerity:

Robotics and AI: "Because what could possibly go wrong when you program and deploy autonomous units to assist in exploration and research? Remember, they're definitely

not

plotting against you."

Exobiology: "Study potential life forms beyond Earth—and try not to be the reason they declare interstellar war. Seriously, they hate when you poke their ecosystems."

Space Diplomacy: "Prepare for interplanetary communications and maintaining peace among civilizations. Spoiler alert: It's mostly apologizing for humanity's

quirks

."

"That's hilarious," I was laughing so hard when I unplugged my sides hurt.

I took another breath, trying not to laugh more. This wasn't about speed. This was about understanding.

"Systems thinking," I muttered to myself. "Don't focus on the individual components. See the whole."

I stepped back mentally, observing the entire simulation interface rather than fixating on each instruction. Patterns began to emerge, there was a logic to the sequence, a rhythm to the system that reminded me of the diagnostic routines I'd run thousands of times at Marts and Sparks.

"It's just a different kind of engine," I told myself. "Same principles, different application."

My next attempt moved more smoothly.

Mental Energy +1 – Adaptive Learning

The warning changed to "CADET PERFORMANCE: ACCEPTABLE." Not great, but progress.

By the third module, something clicked. The navigation commands that had seemed arcane now felt intuitive. The emergency protocols that had confused me now made perfect sense, they were just failsafes, like the ones I'd built into Orla's diagnostic system.

I was catching up now, my avatar moving faster through the modules.

Then came the final challenge, a simulated system failure requiring rapid rerouting of critical resources. The interface flashed warnings that 80% of first-year cadets failed this section on their first attempt.

I hesitated for only a moment before diving in. Rather than following the standard emergency procedures outlined in the tutorial, I applied a workaround I'd developed for catastrophic power failures in hovercars. It wasn't textbook, but it worked, redirecting power in a cascade pattern rather than the prescribed linear sequence.

The simulation froze for a moment, as if confused by my approach. Then:

"CADET PERFORMANCE: EXCEPTIONAL. UNCONVENTIONAL SOLUTION DETECTED."

Trait Unlocked: Adaptive Problem Solver

Enables non-linear logic responses

Boosts success in simulated systems integration

Perception +1 – System Mapping Feedback Loop

I'd drawn attention. Whether that was good or bad remained to be seen.

"Stop," I glanced at the datapad, still glowing faintly on my desk. It held the promise of more simulations, more challenges. My body ached for sleep, but my mind was still racing.

<<Did it not perform as you asked, Captain?>>

"We'll try again another time," I replied, a smile still tugging at my lips. But inside, a quiet confidence was building. Maybe, just maybe, I wasn't as far behind as I'd feared.

First though, coffee. No matter how rank mine is here.

<<I believe a micro-nap is in order.>>

"Micro-nap?"

<<Trust me,>> she said. <<I can regulate your body better than you can.>>

"That's a tall order," I yawned. "But micro-nap it is. Then coffee."

The coffee was rank, and by the time my focus snapped back there was a message waiting for me.

Razors Military Training and Engineering Space Academy – Acceptance

Fast-track approved - Escort will pick you up at 11am SET. Leave any bags by the door.

I grabbed a shower, dressed in clean if not well-worn clothes, and stood gawking around my small apartment.

Eventually, I walked to work, almost in a daze.

Was it really happening?

Orla greeted me at the door, which was unusual. "Got the notice you were leaving last night."

"I'm sorry there wasn't more notice," I apologized and checked the time, 9.30 SET

To my surprise, Orla smiled. "You were way too good for me, kid," she said. "I was hoping no one would notice, and I'd get to keep you for a bit longer."

When she held out her hand for me, I took it. Orla suddenly didn't seem so mean, in fact she looked quite old, and frail. It caught me by surprise, and I choked out, "What will you do?"

"I put a pause on some of the jobs," she waved to the long list displayed on the wall behind her. "Maybe I'll sell up, move on."

"Really?" I asked. "Marts and Sparks has been around here as long as I have."

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

"It's been around here as long as I have," she said. "Maybe this is my push to, you know, retire, go do something nice with my life."

I glanced around the old workshop, the hovercar still sitting there from yesterday. "I got time to finish off, let me do that."

Orla waved me inside and I set to work on the hovercar, finishing the fixes in record time. 9.50am

Orla passed me a coffee, and we sat and talked a little before someone knocked on the back door.

"Come in," she called.

A burly man in full military uniform entered and glanced between us. "Piotr Argassa?"

"That's me."

"Sergeant Loka, here to escort you into Razors," he dipped his head to Orla. "Ma'am."

"Everything I owe you is in your account," Orla said as I stood. "A little bonus for all the years you kept me going."

I went to shake her hand again. "Been—well, it's been an experience."

Instead of shaking my hand, the old gal pulled me to her. "You make sure you look after yourself, you hear me."

I patted her back, giving into the hug slightly. "I will, and thank you for looking after me all these years. I know everything you did wasn't just for yourself, staying here…."

Orla lowered her head, "You got me," she said. Then she patted my arm with the strength she had and pushed me on my way. "Scram, and if you think of me, send me a lil postcard now and then, wherever you are."

"Wherever I am?"

"Like I said," she winked. "You were destined for so much more than here with me."

I dipped my head at her and with the Sergeant stepped outside to my military ride.

The military truck took up the whole of the road. "Could you have kept it low-key at all?" I asked.

Sergeant Loka chuckled. "Afraid of a few stares?"

I glanced around the people nosing our way on the street and stood straight. "No, bout time they realized I was more than they thought."

"Good, because you got some very high praise, you have a lot to live up too." The Sergeant indicated the vehicle, and we moved to it, he opened the door for me.

I swallowed and risked asking, "Seriously?"

"We're halfway through basic training," he said, making sure I didn't bang my head getting in. "How many kids do you think they let in after we start?"

"Kids, ugh."

"Sorry, you're all kids to me."

"Good point," I replied and buckled myself in. "But most of those kids had higher education, and then some before they even got to the academy, right?"

"Right," he confirmed. "They're extremely capable, young adults, if that's better?"

I nodded at him.

Sergeant Loka slid in opposite me, beside him on the seat lay a brand spanking new datapad. He picked it up and turned it to me. "Palm to the surface. Follow the instructions."

I did as he asked and put my palm to the surface, then wiggled it around so that the datapad was essentially locked to my ID.

"It also recognizes your wrist device and HUD ident, so don't worry if you burn your hand, you'll still get access."

I caught the datapad when he let go. "Burn my hand?"

"You like repeating me?"

"Sorry," I put the new datapad on my knee. "This is a lot to take in."

Sergeant Loka was nodding. "I bet. Listen," he said, and his tone was serious. "You've got someone high up on your side, everyone will see that and see you as a target."

"Like kindergarten all over again," I mumbled.

"Except these are smart, and very capable kids."

"Please less of the kids please, I'm twenty-three." When he laughed this time, it creased his eyes. "Probably another disadvantage, still older than all of them?"

"Yeah," he said. "But not by much. Twenty to Twenty-One."

The military vehicle moved off and though I knew it wouldn't take long to get to the academy, we were taking roads, not shortcuts. "You got any tips for settling in?"

"Get up early, train harder than everyone else. Your physical attributes are below standards."

Warning: Stat-sheet reformatted for cadet-visible HUD compliance

<<Is that from you?>>

<<Yes, give me a moment,>> she replied.

At that thought my stats popped into my HUD's view and I glanced down them.

"Where did all this come from?" I asked.

"You've never looked at how our system sees you?" The sergeant asked.

I shook my head.

<<Your Legacy OS wasn't powerful enough.>> Doli added. <<I am.>>

"This is what everyone sees? Like this?"

Sergeant Loka nodded. "It is uniform across the system via your HUD and Neural Data Port. Depending on OS of course. The only ones that get a better view are your doctors."

<<Or those with higher clearance.>>

HUD Note: "Trait seed established from visual-auditory anomaly match."

I blinked hard. 86.2kg? And my fitness level—ugh. <<Can you fix that into pounds?>>

<<Don't like kilograms?>>

<<No,>> I replied and watched it shift on screen.

Made sense. I'd barely slept, and Doli had been drilling tutorials into my brain all night.

Seeing it all like this made such a difference, all those times I'd thought I wasn't like others; I was, I just couldn't process it all.

Doli was now processing it all for me. That made me grin.

"I could do to lose a few pounds," I admitted.

"Your diet here will be good. Eat everything they give you."

"Understood."

"The others in your classes will test you."

"Ugh," I groaned. "Any ideas how?"

He shook his head as the vehicle slowed. I'd never been this close to security. Passing this check, was a lot more involved: wrist scan, retinal ping, and DNA swab. That was serious security.

"Take us straight in," The sergeant said to the driver. "I'll walk you into class—"

"Wait, I don't even get to change?"

He shook his head again, "You're joining class 271 and they're in—" his eyes glazed. "Advanced Astrophysics and Orbital Mechanics."

"I should fit right in then," another sigh escaped my lips. "I've got a lot of catching up to do."

"You have," the Sergeant agreed, then he leaned forward. "Don't let them put you off. You got in because you have potential."

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"Major Kuba would not have taken the hit for you otherwise."

"She took a hit for me?"

"She did," he replied.

The academy loomed ahead, a sprawling mass of steel and glass. Cadets in sharp uniforms walked briskly past, their movements purposeful and disciplined. I felt like an intruder.

Inside the gate, even if I was supposed to be here, this was intimidating.

"Datapad has the internal map of the base, and your schedule. Load them to your HUD as soon as you can."

The truck rumbled to a stop, and Sergeant Loka nodded for me to step out. I squared my shoulders, forcing my legs to move as my insides twisted.

"They're waiting on him, Sergeant."

What the hell am I doing here? The thought struck hard, unbidden. These people were smarter, fitter, more prepared. They belonged here, I did not.

Sergeant Loka walked fast, and yet I managed to keep up, even if my nerves were shot. When he reached a door that stated my new class on it, he turned to me.

"You good?" Loka asked.

I nodded, though the lump in my throat made it hard to breathe. "Yeah. Just… a lot to take in."

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be—out the frying pan into the fire."

He knocked once, loudly and waited for the, "Come," from inside before he opened the door. Then he stepped through.

All eyes were on me as he dipped his head to the teacher. "Civilian assignee Piotr Argassa, reporting in."

"Thank you, Sergeant Loka, I'll take it from here."

Sergeant Loka nodded my way, turned and left. I could do nothing but stand and wait.

The teacher moved to stand before me, "Feeling a little out of place?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Professor Zhal," she said. "I'm also 271's lead, so you'll be seeing me a lot."

"Good to meet you," I said, then felt my face flush.

"Likewise," she turned to the class. "271 this is Piotr Argassa, he will be joining us from today."

"Ma'am, how come he's joining mid-term?" Someone asked.

"Good question," Professor Zhal glanced at me. "Would you like to fill in the class as to why you're special?"

Why I'm special? Holy shit. She wasn't kidding either. I scrambled for words, feeling a dozen pairs of eyes on me.

"I... wouldn't call myself special," I said, projecting my HUD stats onto the shared screen. My voice felt smaller than I intended. "But, uh, here's what I've got."

There was a ripple of murmurs as they scanned the data.

Someone to my right coughed, and I nodded at them.

Class Sync Active

User Piotr Argassa – Data Projection: Confirmed

System Note: Psychological Load Spiking – Performance Anxiety Detected

"You've got a CAR of 9.5," they said, like it was a personal insult.

"That's practically off the charts."

"No way you got ignored by recruitment? That makes them—"

I interrupted that one. "Bounced around foster homes, no sponsor."

"That's rough," one said.

"No way," a couple of low whistles followed and the shake of a few heads.

"Yeah, okay," I admitted. "That's the standout stat. The Cognitive Aptitude Rating is high, but let's be real, everything else is... below average."

More murmurs. Someone muttered something that sounded like, "Brainiac…" while another cadet added, "Mid-term with no qualifications? Who'd you bribe?"

"Or who you sleeping with?" someone else asked.

"That's enough!" Professor Zhal declared. "Or you'll be cleaning out reaction chambers for a week."

Heat prickled at my neck. "Look, I know I don't seem like I belong here," I said, forcing myself to keep eye contact with the class. "But I'm not here to coast or take anyone else's spot. I know I've got a lot to prove, and I'll work hard to pull my weight. That's kind of all I've got to say."

The room was quiet for a beat, and I couldn't tell if it was approval or apathy.

"All right, quiet…. and on that note," Professor Zhal said. "Who would like to mentor Piotr while he acclimatizes to his new life?"

No one moved. I held my breath, half hoping the silence would drag on forever.

"I will," a young man at the back said, raising his hand like it was no big deal.

I let out a slow exhale and turned to him. "Thanks," I said, meaning it more than I could explain.

I sat in the space next to the young man that had spoken. His academy uniform was impeccably clean and pressed, his hair cut to the precise length allowed. What grabbed me were his eyes. The right was unmistakably augmented: a smooth, metallic lens embedded where his iris should have been, a faint VoltTech sigil glowing alongside the pulse of his interface. It was on display for one reason only: broadcasting exactly who sponsored him.

"Robert Lynx," he said and held out a hand for me.

I shook it, and Professor Zhal started to talk to the class once more. "We'll talk at lunch," he said and indicated my datapad. I passed it to him, and he found what I needed before passing it back.

Then I dug in, as lost as I felt, as awkward and new as this was. It wouldn't be for long.

Before me were some simple puzzles. At least that's how my brain saw them. Star charts and data streams were all the same.

The task: get from A to B avoiding two specific sets of obstacles.

"Stuck?" Rob asked, leaning over.

"No," I said, a hint of confidence in my tone. "Just double-checking."

He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything else.

The old me would've second-guessed every answer, worried about looking like a fool. But now? I was starting to trust my instincts.

The right course appeared in my mind, and I input my route, then clicked done.

When Professor Zhal approached, her gaze landed on my screen. "That's an unconventional route, Argassa."

"Unconventional doesn't mean wrong," I replied, meeting her eyes.

She nodded slowly. "True. Let's see if it holds up in the simulation."

Professor Zhal tapped my screen. "Mind if the class watches?"

Shit. Everyone… I suddenly doubted my decisions, but shook my head.

The Professor hit the execute button on my datapad and projected the simulation for everyone to watch.

My course held.

My ship arrived safely.

Simulation Completed – Outcome: Success

Navigation System Understanding: Confirmed

Trait Reinforced: Adaptive Problem Solver

The quiet nods of approval from my classmates didn't go unnoticed.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Then my eyes locked with someone at the other side of the class, his augmented eye bored into me, predator and prey.