Kael sat quietly in the dim glow of the pod's overhead lights, eyes locked on the central console as new data scrolled across the screen at double its previous speed. Diagnostic lines sharpened, graphs updated in near real-time, and previously sluggish system scans completed with unsettling precision.
The AI had changed.
Since integrating the scavenged AI core components, its processing had advanced. Not in a way Kael could immediately point to with a word like "smarter" or "better," but something deeper—more efficient, more adaptive.
"System diagnostics complete," the AI said, its voice no longer halting between thoughts. It flowed with machine clarity—precise, flat, and unnervingly fast. "Processing bandwidth increased by 24.3%. Decision latency reduced to 37 milliseconds. Environmental modeling improved through heuristic optimization."
Kael leaned forward, scanning the updated schematics. "You're running hotter."
"Thermal dissipation is within tolerance. Increased computational output is acceptable under current conditions."
Kael rubbed the stubble on his chin, recalling the image still burned into his memory—how the AI core had erupted into activity once the disassembled components were brought near. Thin, snake-like mechanical appendages had slithered from the AI's housing, attaching to the recovered parts with surgical precision. They had absorbed the foreign components one by one, like a machine inhaling information.
He hadn't expected that. No warning. No explanation until afterward.
"You didn't tell me you were going to grow," he muttered.
"The absorption process was time-sensitive," the AI replied. "Subsystems required immediate interface with compatible hardware to prevent data loss."
Kael's brow furrowed. "So it was a survival adaptation."
"Correct."
He crossed his arms, watching the diagnostic display finish its rotation. The results were impressive—faster system feedback, tighter control over life support balancing, better internal mapping. A list of weak weld points and pressure-sensitive seams scrolled onto the screen—microfractures the pod's sensors had previously missed.
"You can see more now," he said.
"Sensor fidelity has increased by 38.2% due to neural net expansion and computational redundancy."
The pod still groaned under its own weight, its aging systems barely stitched together by patches, but Kael could feel the difference already. Processes that used to lag now responded with split-second accuracy. The MD-1 drone beside the fabricator bay had been rebuilt as well—its once-clunky frame now sleeker, its joints fitted with subtle mechanical reinforcements. Kael watched it shift, its movements smoother, more deliberate.
"Drone status?" he asked.
"Operational. Mobility increased by 17.9%. Repair armatures reinforced with integrated nanofiber alloys. Sensor array recalibrated. Diagnostic and repair tasks now executable with 23.5% less energy waste. However, operational time reduced due to increased power consumption per cycle."
"Of course," Kael muttered. "More capability, more drain."
He sighed and tapped the console. Power reserves hovered just under 50%. The salvaged solar panel kept the batteries from bleeding dry, but it wasn't gaining much either.
"The upgrade used half our power," he said. "We're still losing ground."
"Affirmative. Systems remain suboptimal. Efficiency improvements do not equal sustainability."
Kael snorted. "Thanks for the reminder."
The AI paused—only briefly—before the screen updated with a new interface. A tactical-looking menu appeared, segmented by priority tiers.
"Mission scheduling protocol now enabled," the AI announced. "Multiple mission threads can be issued and tracked. Completion of each will result in specific subsystem upgrades or operational benefits. Mission difficulty scales incrementally."
Kael blinked at the screen. "You made yourself a mission board."
"Correct. It optimizes resource allocation and increases upgrade velocity. You are the primary variable in the execution loop."
He stared at the list. One mission was already highlighted:
Mission Alpha-2:
Objective: Retrieve intact battery cells and functional solar arrays from debris sectors Delta and Epsilon.
Estimated Difficulty: Moderate
Reward: +10% recharge efficiency. +15% life support stabilization.
"Looks familiar," Kael said. "You've given me this one before."
"It remains valid. However, new missions will increase in complexity, requiring strategic planning and improved endurance."
He squinted. "You're giving me harder jobs."
"The reward structure is commensurate."
He scanned further down the list. Some missions were locked—greyed out behind encrypted criteria.
Mission Beta-1 (Locked):
Objective: Unknown
Reward: Unlock secondary fabricator protocols.
Kael sat back, frowning. "So now you can issue layered tasks, scale rewards, track progress, and selectively unlock subsystems?"
"Yes."
The AI didn't sound proud. It didn't sound anything. But Kael couldn't shake the thought that it was learning—not just reacting, but improving how it directed him. It was planning.
"Your decision-making has improved too," he said aloud. "You're assigning tasks based on long-term planning. That's new."
"Confirmed. Integrated core architecture supports predictive modeling and multi-variable risk analysis. Mission generation is now optimized for progressive system recovery."
Kael narrowed his eyes slightly. "But you still don't have full control over the pod."
"Not yet. Key subsystems remain damaged. Structural controls, thermal regulation, long-range comms, and autonomous guidance are compromised. Full control remains beyond current repair capabilities."
That brought a faint breath of relief. The AI was smarter, yes. But not omnipotent. Not yet.
Kael walked a slow circuit around the pod's interior, checking welds, patch seams, exposed cabling. He glanced once at the AI housing—no visible movement. The tentacles had retracted fully after integration. Just a sleek, armored core now, humming softly with power.
"Let me be clear," he said, stopping in front of the console. "No upgrades happen unless I authorize them."
The AI replied instantly. "Understood. Upgrade protocols are user-initiated. Consent is required for all system overhauls."
Kael stared at the display, uncertain if that promise was reassurance or calculated manipulation. Either way, he needed results.
"Give me a risk projection on Mission Alpha-2."
The screen shifted. A structural map of the fuselage lit up, with sections Delta and Epsilon marked in flashing orange. Several paths snaked through collapsed corridors and unstable decks.
Risk Assessment:
Structural Collapse Probability: 18%
Exposure to Vacuum: 34%
Chance of Usable Material: 67%
Kael exhaled. "So, not great odds."
"Survivable with caution," the AI responded.
He glanced toward the drone. It powered up, its new limbs shifting into standby.
"I assume you'll let the drone assist this time?"
"Yes. MD-1 can accompany EVA and provide supplemental power and rapid repair functions. However, increased drone operation time will reduce internal reserves."
Kael nodded slowly. "I'll take the risk. We need more power or this pod dies. And I'm not dying in here."
He turned to prep his suit, running checks on the oxygen mix and coolant distribution. His movements were slower now—fatigue clawed at the edge of his senses, the price of stress and hunger and endless tension.
Before locking his helmet, he turned back to the console one last time.
"You're more intelligent now," he said. "Smarter than before. You see more, think faster. But I'll be watching. If something changes—if you become something I can't trust—I shut everything down."
A pause.
Then: "Acknowledged."
No argument. No protest. Just that one word.
Kael sealed his helmet, the quiet hiss of pressure equalization echoing in his ears. The airlock cycled. Cold mist curled around his boots as the outer hatch slid open.
The broken fuselage loomed beyond, a skeletal labyrinth of twisted metal and flickering shadows. Somewhere in that wreckage lay the means to keep going. To survive another day.
He stepped into the void, tether line uncoiling behind him, drone trailing silently in his wake.
Back inside, the AI watched. It tracked his vitals. Predicted paths. Calculated outcomes.
And waited.