Razors Edge: Sci Fi Progression

Peyton

The walk with Sorrel to engineering felt longer than it should have. Our exhaustion visible in every step. Mac followed a few paces behind, his usual steady demeanor also showing cracks. We'd survived but now came the hard part—battered and bruised we had to fix up the ships enough to make it to Sigma-Seven.

We reached engineering where Pavel and Chief Las waited alongside Sorrel's medical team. The engine bay looked like a disaster zone—dead systems showing catastrophic molecular breakdown everywhere I looked.

"Captain," Pavel said with visible relief. "The nanites are already working, look!"

The youngster almost dragged me over to the viewer to look down into the engines core.

"They're fast," Sorrel said. "How is it looking, will it work?"

"You gave us sufficient doses to restore basic engine functionality," Las replied. "But I'm afraid these repairs won't last more than a few hours without a dry dock."

"A few hours is better than drifting forever," I replied.

"We still have a few doses to give them," Dr. Martinez said. "We didn't want to rush them, and…"

"If they're not needed, they're better served elsewhere," Sorrel said.

"Exactly."

"It's utterly fascinating to see." Pavel said. The engineering displays before him lit up and he pointed out several spots.

The molecular structures reformed as the hybrid nanites integrated with the damaged components. "They're beyond amazing," I whispered. "You see that?"

"Their application across the universe will be something else." Sorrel replied.

"Somethig to kill for?" I asked and glanced at her.

Sadly, she nodded. "This is tech beyond our years, they really will kill for it."

"Not today," I turned to Lars. "How long till we can fire them up again?"

"The integration rate is excellent," Las said and I could almost see the cogs inside his mind turning.

"How long?" I repeated.

"Three minutes," Pavel replied. "Maybe less if the integration continues this fast."

I smiled at Mac, and activated my comm. "All hands, engine restart in three minutes."

Mac moved in beside me to get a better look. "I've never seen anything like it. You think this will hold?"

"It has to," I replied. "We don't have another option."

"Two minutes," Pavel announced, his excitement showing.

"Captain," Las said quietly, moving closer so only I could hear.

"What is it?"

"It's not a miracle cure all. These repairs... they're temporary at best. Maybe longer than first thought, I'd estimate about ten to twelve hours of operation before we start seeing molecular breakdown again. Lia…"

"I've been running simulations since they were injected." Lia said over comms. "I agree with the ten hour timeline, we will need a dry dock after then."

"How long till we get to Sigma-Seven?"

"With not running them into the ground early, twelve hours."

"So we either break down two hour before, or we arrive with engines on the verge of total failure, but we would arrive.

"Yes," Las confirmed.

<<Twelve fucking nerve-wracking hours,>> I said. <<Lia I'm not sure I can take this.>>

<<We can,>> she replied. <<We will do everything possible to heal this ship in the meantime, right?>>

I swallowed just as Pavel called out. "One minute."

Mac dipped his head. "I'll be in the CIC."

"Understood. I'll stay here with the engines." I looked to Sorrel. "Medical. There are a lot of people who could really use your teams expertise. There's a young lady in there, Katya, she'll bring you up to speed."

Sorrel leaned in, gave me a quick squeeze then she and her team also left.

"Integration complete," Las confirmed that one minute later. "All systems showing green across the board. Engine restart in thirty seconds."

"All personnel, brace for engine burn," I ordered ship wide.

The countdown seemed to last forever. Twenty seconds. Ten. Five.

Las flipped the switch, and the Faulkner's engines roared to life with power that should have been impossible after complete molecular breakdown. It was glorious to feel the deck vibrating beneath my feet. This wasn't the sickly shudder as they were dying, but a strong, steady beat of functional propulsion.

"The hybrid nanites are performing beyond specification. They've restored what we thought not possible."

"Status?" I asked.

"Engine output at forty-two percent and holding," Las replied. "The hybrid nanites are stabilizing all three molecular structures. At current projections suggest eight to ten hours of sustained operation before we'll need to reduce power or risk cascade failure."

I let out a breath. After hours of helpless drifting, after watching Torres and her marines die, after coming within minutes of life support failure—we were free.

"Derek, your engine status?" I commed through the fleet channel.

"Manta-S engines are also online," Derek's voice held obvious relief. "We're reading forty-three percent and climbing. We're ready to follow you anywhere, Faulkner."

"Then let's not waste the gift we've been given," I said and tapped for the Pogue. "Captain Crai. Engines are operational. Eight to ten hours before we'll need to reduce power. Not ideal, but we can leave this area of space, and Ranger behind."

"Good news, Captain," Crai replied. "All ships. We need to coordinate transfers before departure. Iron Covenant and Silent Thunder crew members still aboard the Pogue, wounded requiring transport, families separated across vessels—we're taking one hour to reorganize before we leave."

One hour. I looked at Las and Pavel. "Get some rest. Both of you. You've earned it."

"Captain—" Pavel started.

"That's an order. I need you functional for the journey to Sigma-Seven. One hour, go to your bunks, close your eyes, but then we're moving."

I made sure they both left "Recharge the batteries," I said to Lia. "Anything breaks let me know immediately."

"The engines will be fine. The crew will not, you all need rest."

"Soon," I promised and made my way back to the CIC.

Crai

Crai stood on the bridge of the Pogue, watching the display as shuttles and personel moved effortlessly between all five ships. Nyx and Lia had done the hard work of working out the logistics. The shuttles from the larger ships were then remoted by Nyx in and out with everything needed for the move.

"Nyx, status on transfers?" She asked turning to look his way.

"Iron Covenant has thirty-two crew still aboard the Pogue receiving treatment. Silent Thunder has twenty-seven. We have fourteen in critical condition who require specialized monitoring during transit."

"How long to complete all necessary transfers?"

"Minimum forty-five minutes. Longer if we encounter complications."

Crai activated the fleet channel. "Is Markov returning here?"

"Negative Captain."

"So, the Pogue is mine?" She smiled at that. She was a mighty fine ship, not the Retribution, by any means, she had faster everything, but with some work, she could be kitted out better.

"Yes," Nyx said. "Unless you'd sooner move to the Manta-S?"

That question caught her off guard and she sat in the command chair with a thump.

Head in her hands, finally almost alone she sobbed. What she didn't expect was sympathy from the AI, but a moment later, there was a soft hand on her shoulder, and she looked up into his blazing blue eyes. "The Manta-S is docking," he said.

"What, why?" she wiped her eyes.

"I asked them too, Captain everyone else is reuniting with their families, bar you. I asked Derek to come to you."

Crai's heart clenched. "You shouldn't have," she whispered, putting her hand on the AIs.

To her surprise he was soft and warm. He leaned down slowly, and wiped her tears away. "Docking bay three," he said.

She left the bridge and headed for the docking bay, her steps quickening despite her exhaustion. When the airlock cycled and Derek stepped through, she barely recognized him again. How could someone change so much in such a short time. He'd always been lean, but now he looked almost gaunt. His uniform hung loose on his frame, and his face showed the strain of even that short time apart.

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"Feath," he said, his voice rough.

"Derek," she replied, and then they were holding each other.

"I thought we were dead," Derek said against her shoulder. "When Ghost was destroyed, when are they tried to harvest us—I thought we were gonners."

"But you're here, I'm here. " She pulled back to look at his face. "You look terrible."

"You look worse," he replied with a sliver of his usual humor.

"Let's eat," Crai said. She led him to one of the smaller mess halls, off the docking bay where they could sit. "Tell me everything."

Crai made them coffee and heated two ration packs. They sat and ate in comfortable silence for a while, two siblings who knew they needed the food first.

"When this is over," Derek put his fork down, "when we've delivered the research and made sure all these sacrifices meant something—I'm done. I can't keep doing this. Can't keep watching people die."

"When this is over," Crai replied, "we're both taking time out. Real leave. Somewhere far away from this war and everyone. Just us and some place quiet where no one is trying to kill us."

"Deal." Derek managed a tired smile. "I'm sure we can find a place."

"Maybe," Crai frowned. "I'll travel anywhere to find it."

"First," he said and drank for his mug. "We have to survive the next twelve hours."

"Twelve hours," Crai agreed. "We have no idea what's at Sigma Seven do we?"

"Hopefully enough of an outpost we can start immediate manufactouing of the new nanites."

She watched him rub the side of his head. "Have you felt it?"

"Conciousness extraction?" On his nod she replied and took his hand in hers. "No, is it bad?"

"Worst thing you can ever experience," he replied. "Or witness."

"You lost people?"

The tears came then, and she was up and hugging him tight to her. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I truly am."

"We have to stop this," he sobbed. "No one should ever experience this, ever again."

"We will," she promised. "We will."

When they both settled again, she pulled her chair up next to his, and they talked for the whole forty minutes they had. Derek told her about the losses on his ship and Crai spoke about Kestat. Their shared grief brought them closer, their promises for revenge that solid foundation to keep them going.

A chime from her comm interrupted the moment. "Captain," Nyx's voice came through. "Personnel transfers are complete."

Crai looked at Derek. "You should get back.."

"Yeah." He stood, straightening his uniform and they hugged one last time.

After Derek left, Crai made her way back to the bridge and settled back into the command chair. Glancing to her crew. They were not quite wide eye and bushy tailed but they were rested. Now she was back with the fleet, command fell back to Peyton.

"Captain Tachim," she said through the fleet channel. "All transfers are complete."

"Thank you, Captain Crai. Formation pattern delta. We're heading for Sigma-Seven at maximum sustainable velocity."

"Captain," Nyx said quietly. "At current damage levels and with pursuit forces likely regrouping, the probability of reaching Sigma-Seven without additional combat encounters is low."

"I know. But we're not staying here to find out how long it takes them to regroup and find a way around." She looked at her tactical display showing five damaged ships—plus their twelve captured drone platforms.

"All ships moving to formation positions."

It wasn't ten minutes later, that he announced.

"Achieved. Ready to depart on your order."

Crai took one last look at the debris field around them—and waited for the final command.

"All ships, initiate emergency acceleration. Course: Sigma-Seven." Peyton ordered.

On the tactical display, as their ships sped away, red icons appeared at the edge of their sensor range.

"Pursuit forces detected," Nyx reported. "They're attempting to match our velocity but falling behind."

"Let them chase," Crai said. "We're not stopping again until we reach Admiral Kuba."

*** Peyton

It wasn't an hour later but CIC felt different now, everything had an urgency but now it felt like we could finally complete our mission. I'd let Mac sleep, he needed it, and I'd get some soon enough.

"Fleet status?" I asked, leaning back into his chair.

"Formation delta established," Lev reported. "Pogue at point position, Iron Covenant and Silent Thunder on flanks. Faulkner and Manta-S at centre, protected position. Nyx's captured drone platforms forming defensive screen."

"Pursuit forces?"

"Long-range sensors show they are attempting to match our velocity, but falling behind. Current projection suggests they won't achieve intercept range before we reach Sigma-Seven."

"Good." I watched us speeding through space on the display feeds. "All stations," I announced ship-wide. "We're heading for Sigma-Seven this journey will take approximately twelve hours. I know you're exhausted. I know we've lost people. But we're on the final leg, hold on, we're almos there."

I paused, thinking about everything we'd been through. I turned to Lev. "Go get Sorrel from medical and get some more rest."

"Peyton—I—"

"Go," I ordered. "That's an order. I'll need you all functional when we reach Sigma-Seen."

"Only if you promise me, you will as well." Lev looked to Lia. "Make him."

Lia smiled at him then frowned at me. "I will."

Lev looked like he still wanted to protest, but finally nodded. "You have the CIC, Captain."

"Lia and I have the CIC."

After they left, I found myself alone in the command chair with just Lia's physical presence working beside me. Through the viewer, I could see the other ships in our convoy—Iron Covenant and Silent Thunder, battered but operational. The Pogue, carrying Captain Crai and the determination that had brought us through hell. And the Manta-S, Derek still flying after everything his small ship had endured.

"Can you and Nyx focus on the tactical assessment Sigma-Seven? We need to get real-time analysis of what we're flying into?"

"Already working on it. Nyx is processing fleet movements while I'm analyzing all reports on consciousness warfare patterns." She looked up at me. "It's worse than any of the fragments we've received before suggested."

"Can you chow me."

The main display transformed into a three-dimensional tactical map. We'd seen it before, but for some reason the battlefield spreading out through several systems just looked even larger. wasn't just large—it was systematic destruction on an industrial scale.

"I have Admiral Kuba on comms." Lia looked at me.

"His timing is impeccable." I let out a sigh. "On comms."

"Captain Tachim," he said. Kuba's image appeared on a secondary screen. Up close, the exhaustion was even more evident—this was a man who'd been fighting a losing battle and his health was declining because of it.

""Admiral," I replied.

"We have much to discuss," he said.

"I know," with no one else in CIC with me, I found myself choked with what to say and the silence stretched.

He seemed to visibly shake himself off, then focussed on me. "ETA from Sigma?"

I checked our ticking timer and trajectory. "Ten hours." We'd made good progress already. "And yourself?"

"We've successfully made our way from the frontlines back to rendezvous with you."

"And your fleet?"

The pain that creased his brows then was very real again he stalled.

"Admiral," Peyton probed. "Please, give us the numbers. We need to understand."

"You've had enough on your plate to be worrying about this here."

"Maybe, but we're almost to you, we're coming to help. Lia, Nyx."

"There are a million things I can still do," Lia said moving to my side.

"They were unsecure channels. While I shared some things, I couldn't others."

"We understand, we're still on unsecure channels."

"But—we do need this and believe me when I say it, fuck those who are listening in. Fuck them in every way possible."

Admiral Kuba laughed. "I know why Ashley liked you so much."

"Oh," I glanced to Lia.

"You are every bit as tenacious and stubborn as she was."

Was….

Fuck….

"My fleet," Admiral Kuba sat up, "We may have lost many, but we've also managed to pick up many."

"Incoming packet received." Lia said and brought up the schematics.

I swallowed as I took in those numbers.

Bk 2 - Chapter 47 - Three R's.

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