**Structural Damage:** Multiple armor plates on the hull are torn and deformed, especially near the engine room and areas previously scorched by the CME edge. The integrity of the main structure has dropped to 61%, teetering on the brink of collapse.
**Propulsion System:** The main engine and auxiliary propulsion units are completely destroyed. An explosion and severe fire occurred in the engine room (extinguished by the vacuum environment); the internal condition is unknown, but it is definitely unusable. Only the spare attitude control propulsion units remain usable, but energy reserves are only 18%, sufficient for basic attitude control and very low-speed maneuvering.
**Weapon System:** The main gun is completely destroyed due to overload firing. The close-in weapon system's energy circuit is interrupted, and most are offline.
**Defense System:** The energy shield generator overloaded and burned out. The armor is severely damaged.
**Life Support System:** The main life support system's circulation system is damaged, with efficiency reduced by 40%. Backup oxygen and supplies are expected to last for 15 days. Internal pressure is stable, but trace leaks have been detected in multiple areas.
**Communication System:** The long-range hyperspace communication array was severely damaged in the CME impact and is unusable. Short-range laser and radio communications are partially functional, but their effective range is greatly reduced.
**Navigation System:** The main sensor array is partially damaged, resulting in decreased star map positioning accuracy. The hyperspace engine's status is unknown, but even if intact, its current power is insufficient to support a jump.
In summary, the Nightingale is now a space wreck, severely damaged and without most of its power, adrift in an unfamiliar star system. They are temporarily safe, but their situation is extremely precarious.
"The possibility of attempting repairs?" Kane asked the crucial question.
Leah was silent for a moment, her eyes slowly calculating the data stream. "...Extremely low. There is a lack of critical spare parts, especially the engine and power core. With only the ship's repair robots and my own engineering capabilities, we can at most perform some emergency repairs, stabilize the existing structure, and repair some internal systems... We cannot restore its navigation capability."
Unable to restore navigation capability. This means they are trapped here. Fifteen days of life support may sound like a long time, but in the vast universe, without rescue, it's merely delaying death. "Prioritize repairing internal life support systems and short-range communications. Attempt to send a distress signal outwards at maximum power, including our identity, our situation, and our current coordinates," Kane commanded. This was standard procedure, though the chances were slim—this star system was far too remote.
"Understood," Leah replied, commencing the operation.
Kane turned his gaze back to the main screen. In the distance, in the direction of planet G-173c, a massive, slowly spreading cloud of incandescent plasma remained—the embers left by the CME. That planet, and everything that had happened upon it, was utterly buried.
"Continuously scan planet G-173c and its surrounding area at low power," Kane added, his tone carrying an undeniable wariness. "Monitor for any anomalous energy signatures…especially…that familiar signature."
He couldn't quite believe that the crystal had vanished so easily. That existence was far too strange and powerful.
Leah nodded, allocating a portion of the computing power to perform the monitoring task.
A temporary silence fell over the bridge, broken only by the faint sounds of the maintenance robots at work and the beeps of system self-checks. Kane leaned back in his commander's chair, a wave of exhaustion washing over him, not just physically, but also mentally. The mystery of ten years, the sacrifices of his comrades, one near-death experience after another… all of this weighed heavily on his shoulders.