The pod hummed with restrained energy. Systems that had once flickered between life and failure now held steady, as if aware something important had shifted. Kael leaned over the fabricator console, the new power pack humming gently beside it, waiting for his input.
[FABRICATOR – STATUS: ONLINE]
AUXILIARY POWER DETECTED
CHARGE CAPACITY: 1.7 UNITS
PRINT CAPABILITY: 1 SMALL UNIT OR TOOL
RECOMMENDED ACTION: CONSTRUCT DRONE FRAME – MD-1 (MICRODRONE)
He hovered his finger over the activation switch.
Printing the drone meant gambling almost all his usable energy reserves. But it was the only thing that could start real repairs. He couldn't keep patching systems with a welder and stubbornness. The pod was holding, yes—but just barely.
Kael tapped into the blueprint catalog. The MD-1 schematic blinked alive, a skeletal frame with four spindly arms and a central logic core—basic, slow, but capable of external patchwork, small-scale manipulation, and hull inspection. The onboard AI estimated five hours of operational time before needing recharge.
It would have to be enough.
He entered the print command.
[INITIATING CONSTRUCTION: MD-1 MICRODRONE]
POWER CONSUMPTION: 1.4 UNITS
MATERIALS: CONFIRMED
ESTIMATED TIME: 27 MINUTES
As the chamber lit up, Kael stepped back and let it work. The hum of the laser matrix was comforting in a strange way—like the pulse of a heart, artificial but vital.
He turned to the viewport and stared into the wreck-strewn silence beyond. The derelict fuselage he'd just returned from drifted at the edge of scanner range, still barely visible. There was more to explore inside it—he was sure of that—but he couldn't risk another EVA until this pod had basic self-maintenance.
Another clunk from the fabricator.
Kael moved over, watching as the last of the drone's plating was etched into place. Its lens flickered to life, then dimmed.
[MD-1 MICRODRONE – ACTIVATED]
SYSTEM CHECK: COMPLETE
COMMAND LINK ESTABLISHED
AWAITING TASK
"Alright, buddy," Kael muttered. "Let's see what you can do."
He keyed in the repair task list.
PRIMARY OBJECTIVE:
– EXTERNAL HULL SEALING: VENTRAL MICROFRACTURES
– FOAM PATCH VERIFICATION: STARBOARD
– SOLAR PANEL DOCKING PREP
The last item triggered a memory.
"Right," Kael said aloud. "The panel."
He rummaged through the storage under the crash couch and retrieved the salvaged solar panel—slightly warped, partially scorched, but intact enough to serve. The AI had provided instructions for mounting during the earlier diagnostic scan.
He pulled up the guide:
[SOLAR PANEL MOUNT INSTRUCTION – POD DOCKING COMPATIBILITY: LIMITED]
RECOMMENDED POSITION: EXTERNAL TOP HATCH PLATE – MODULE PORT 3
SECURE VIA: REINFORCED FASTENERS OR MICRO-WELDING
ALIGNMENT ANGLE: 42° FOR MAXIMUM ABSORPTION IN CURRENT ORBITAL PATH
CAUTION: PANEL MUST BE POSITIONED WITHIN 3° TOLERANCE OR RENDERING MAY FAIL
He turned to the drone. "Okay, MD, change of plans. You're gonna help me give this pod its first breath of clean power."
The drone whirred softly, then floated toward the small panel slot above the cabin.
Kael watched from inside as the bot extended its arms, one of which bore the small micro-welder tip from the fabricator tool kit. The lens adjusted, locked in on the docking node, and began to spark.
Molten metal hissed in the vacuum. The pod shivered slightly with each weld.
Time passed in quiet, tense intervals.
Finally:
[SOLAR PANEL DOCKING COMPLETE]
STATUS: CHARGING
OUTPUT: 11% OF STANDARD OPERATIONAL CAPACITY
PANEL CONDITION: DEGRADED – EFFICIENCY REDUCED
SYSTEM IMPROVEMENT: +0.3 UNIT/HR RECHARGE (EST.)
Kael grinned.
It wasn't much. A trickle. But it was his trickle. Enough to eventually recharge the drone. Enough to maybe support another print in a few days.
More importantly, it was sustainable.
He activated the drone's next task: hull verification. The bot drifted along the shell of the pod, sending back live footage to the internal console. Kael watched as it scanned the emergency foam patch on the starboard side—still holding, but visibly cracking at the edges.
[REPAIR ACTION SUGGESTED: REINFORCE WITH SECONDARY WELD OR PATCH MATTER]
[FOAM PATCH DURABILITY: 65% – RISK OF DECOMPRESSION WITHIN 72 HOURS]
Kael's smile faded. The foam had bought him time, but not safety. He flagged the repair for the drone to address next.
Inside, he took a moment to breathe. The pod's lights seemed steadier now. The cabin air, though thin, no longer carried the acidic sting it had before.
The AI pinged again.
[SURVIVAL WINDOW: 96 HOURS – UPDATED TO 106 HOURS BASED ON ENERGY GAIN]
NEXT OBJECTIVE: RESOURCE EXPANSION
RECOMMENDED ACTION: DEEPER SALVAGE – DERELICT COMPARTMENT SCAN PARTIAL
POSSIBLE MODULE DETECTED: CRYO SUSPENSION POD (DAMAGED)
POTENTIAL MATERIAL YIELD: UNKNOWN
EVA REQUIRED
Kael rubbed the bridge of his nose.
He didn't want to go back out yet. But the AI was right—he needed parts, especially to fabricate a proper repair drone or backup power cells. The scavenged battery wouldn't last forever.
He accessed the EVA prep system and set the suit to auto-calibrate. The thermal blanket was now installed in the cabin wall, stabilizing interior temperatures and lowering drain on the heat coils. Another tiny victory.
By the time the drone returned, its battery was nearly drained—but the starboard weld was holding. Ventral fractures remained, but were no longer bleeding structural pressure.
Kael stood and fastened the suit seals. "Alright, one more run," he muttered. "Back into the deep."
He moved slower this time. The corridor inside the derelict had shifted slightly, and there was a faint metallic groan with each movement. Kael stuck close to the bulkhead, checking each corner, each shadow.
Past the locker room was a partially sealed chamber—frost-rimmed and sealed by a buckled sliding door. Kael yanked it open with the Arcspanner.
Inside, suspended by dead maglocks, floated a cryo-pod.
Its display screen was shattered. The occupant—thankfully or tragically—long gone. But the casing itself held value. Cryo-pods required independent power cells, stabilization hardware, and emergency thermal regulation. If even half of that could be salvaged...
Kael floated closer and unlatched the access panel. The interior wiring was half-melted, but a secondary battery cell was intact. A mini thermal regulator unit hung beneath it, slightly warped but clean.
"Come to papa," he whispered.
He worked quickly, detaching components and securing them into his satchel. The AI's voice whispered softly into his helmet.
"Thermal unit detected. Power cell integrity: 41%.
Fabricator compatibility: Confirmed."
Kael didn't smile this time. He was already scanning for more.
He found it—wedged beneath a collapsed crate—an oxygen stabilizer tank. Empty, but the filtration matrix inside might still work. Another piece. Another step.
Back in the pod, Kael unloaded the parts and collapsed into the seat.
His breath was ragged, suit soaked in sweat. But his eyes were bright.
[MATERIAL INTAKE UPDATED]
NEW PRINT OPTIONS UNLOCKED:
– OXYGEN FILTRATION MESH (LIMITED USE)
– SECONDARY THERMAL NODE (INTERNAL ONLY)
– DRONE FRAME EXPANSION KIT (LOCKED: POWER LOW)
The options were expanding. The pod, piece by piece, was becoming something new. Not just an escape capsule. A base.
Kael reached out and ran a hand across the bulkhead, now patched with weld lines and insulation foam.
"You're not just keeping me alive," he said quietly. "You're becoming mine."
He stared into the flickering stars.
Somewhere out there was a wrecked ship, a war, a disaster he barely remembered. But here? This pod, this shell—this was his world now.
And he was going to rebuild it.