The drone hovered in its new cradle, its optics blinking steadily as it completed the final phase of calibration. Outside the pod, Kael double-checked the primary tether line, now reinforced and coiled neatly around a newly installed magnetic spool mount. He clipped in, flexed his gloves, and launched himself into the cold expanse.
The engineering station—what remained of it—floated ahead in the debris field like a wounded leviathan. Its exterior bulkheads were twisted, and several compartments had been ripped clean off. But its inner spine still held. Somewhere within it, the AI had detected storage signatures—tool lockers, possibly untouched since the disaster.
He drifted closer, letting his boots magnetize lightly to a twisted support strut, using his suit's wrist thrusters to maneuver without disturbing the balance of wreckage. The AI crackled in his ear.
"Telemetry stable. Magnetic anchor at eighty-four percent. No structural shifts detected in the station fragment."
Kael moved carefully through a jagged breach in the hull, light from his helmet casting shifting shadows across the ruined interior. It was once brightly lit, manned by engineers overseeing the Prospector's Dagger's auxiliary systems. Now, it was a tomb.
He drifted past a series of ruined consoles and shattered glass panels until his eyes locked onto a red panel—half-covered in debris but unmistakable.
A tool locker.
Kael pulled his multitool and began clearing the rubble. After several minutes of effort, he peeled back a collapsed support beam and wrenched the locker door open. Inside, dozens of neatly secured instruments remained: torque drivers, spanners, power couplings, arc welders—even an old but functional mag-clamp rig for securing heavy objects in zero-g.
"Jackpot," he muttered, strapping the locker's contents into a storage satchel slung across his back.
"Recommendation," the AI chirped. "Retain all tools intact. Conversion to nanite feedstock unnecessary. Several devices are compatible with pod enhancement frameworks."
"Agreed. These'll help with repairs—and maybe upgrades."
Moving deeper into the station's core, Kael paused near a flickering panel. Buried behind another shattered terminal was a smaller storage node. He pried it open with the back end of a wrench and found a stripped-out comms casing.
Inside were mangled parts—most fried or warped—but a few components sparked recognition: antenna regulators, frequency isolators, even a miniaturized pulse amplifier.
"These… could be comm relay components," he murmured. "AI, run a scan."
"Confirmed. Salvageable pieces from a long-range relay system. Estimated recovery potential: 48%. These components may serve in reestablishing passive signal monitoring or basic outgoing transmission."
Kael's breath caught in his throat. If he could rebuild even part of a communications array, he might be able to detect other survivors. Or send out a beacon.
He secured the parts carefully in his kit and turned back toward the exit—but paused again, this time at a sealed wall hatch near the former maintenance shuttle dock. A faded sign above it read: "Drone Deployment Access."
His heart skipped.
The hatch creaked open under pressure, revealing a darkened alcove. Dust and debris coated everything, but he spotted the silhouette of a drone cradle—bigger than the current repair drone's. The attached drone was missing most of its limbs, and its torso was split nearly in half, but the structural core remained.
"AI, can we use this?"
"Partial integrity confirmed. Frame suitable for long-range hauling drone retrofitting. Components match 3A industrial tug protocols. Salvaging recommended."
Kael smiled behind his visor. "We're getting closer."
As he began marking the frame for drone pickup, his thoughts turned to the increasing distance he was working at. The pod's tether only reached so far—limiting the range of salvage runs. If he pushed too far and something went wrong…
He made a decision.
"AI, I'm going to set up a secondary tether."
"Acknowledge. Recommend anchoring at debris cluster delta-five. Structural beams present and suitable for relay tethering."
Kael moved to the designated point, locked down a magnetic clamp into one of the heavier steel girders, then fired the auto-spool. A sleek coil of carbon-wrapped tether spooled out behind him, connecting back to the pod.
He secured a harness clamp between the secondary and primary lines, forming a stable transfer route. Now, he could leapfrog between both tether points, extending his reach and creating a fail-safe in case one line failed.
It wasn't elegant, but it was smart.
He paused at the far end of the engineering station, peering out over the debris field. Glinting in the distance, barely distinguishable from the stars, was the remains of a shattered observation deck—what might've once been a crew habitat or a science wing.
Another possible treasure trove.
"AI, mark this as a target for a future run," Kael said.
"Logged. Updating recovery trajectory."
Back at the pod, the drone arrived moments after him, hauling the salvaged comm parts and the half-ruined hauling drone core. Kael loaded the toolkits onto the bench and began lining them up with practiced efficiency. It was strange to have options again—to work with tools instead of just praying nanites would be enough.
As he worked, the AI's voice returned.
"Telemetry update. Current salvage total: 63% of Stage One resource requirement. Water recycler stable. Power grid nominal. Life support efficiency: 99.4%."
"Almost there," Kael said.
He turned to the drone shell and began removing damaged actuators and relays. With the pod's upgraded power grid and upcoming nanite batches, it wouldn't take much to bring this drone back online—this time built for bulk hauling. If it worked, it would change everything.
His stomach growled—a sharp reminder of the dwindling food reserves.
But for now, Kael had purpose.
The void wasn't just a place to survive anymore.
It was a place he could rebuild.