Failsafe engaged – Core integration incomplete.

<<Wake up. Please. Wake up.>>

Pain exploded behind my eyes as the world came back into view. Where was I?

It wasn't home. It wasn't the workshop.

Hangar 31, still.

There were voices again, outside.

Fuck. How? What?

<<You've been out for several minutes.>>

Several minutes?

I moved to stand and wobbled. The download hadn't taken a minute. Something had happened.

NOS-DOLI Integration: 82% Complete

Vital Signs: Stabilizing – Neural Load: 61%

<<You need to leave. Now.>>

"But…"

System Connection Incomplete – Signal Degradation Detected

<<Go. Fix what you can and come back for the last eighteen percent.>>

"Will that work?"

Voices and boots, "We'll make sure nothing's taken before we pack it up."

<<Major Kuba proximity signature identified. Recommend disengagement,>> Doli said.

Shit!

A cold knot formed in my stomach.

Everything I'd touched, I put back, and pocketed my chip, I'd dispose of it later so no one could track it. Then I snuck out the same way I came.

<<My signal to you is weaker. I can't reach you so far out from my core.>>

"I'll be back soon," I whispered.

<<You'd better,>>

I practically ran for Alisee's Noodles. I made it three blocks before the magnitude of what I'd done hit me like a freight transport.

I'd stolen military technology. Downloaded an experimental AI into my skull and made promises to an android worth more than some planetary budgets.

Yet somehow, impossibly, it felt like the first smart thing I'd done in years. The familiar weight of my datapad in my pocket felt different now, heavier, more significant.

Everything felt different. The cracked sidewalks under my feet, the distant rumble of the academy's defensive grid, even the stale city air tasted like possibility instead of resignation.

What if I couldn't fix the remaining 18%? What if this was all some elaborate delusion brought on by neural incompatibility?

<<You're overthinking,>> came Doli's faint voice.

Yeah. Maybe I was. But for the first time in my life, I had something worth overthinking about.

By the time I queued for my meal, I had at least caught my breath. I was greeted by a bubbly young waitress who seemed determined to share every detail of her day and almost got my order wrong.

I paid the ₵8 and wandered back, eating chicken slices out of the top of the pack. Enough carbs and MSG to keep me vertical, still < 0.5 % of one rent payment, and 1/5th of a Macro-Lift bar. Not that I ever got to buy those unless we'd had several hot clients in a month.

When I looked up, I cursed. I'd taken a wrong turn. It then took me way longer to walk back.

Finally back at the small yard, my appetite had vanished and the cooling food sat beside me as my thoughts scattered, refusing to settle.

Instead of eating, I turned my focus to the hovercar. The minutes dragged, each one stretching into the next as my mind wandered to anything but the work in front of me. I didn't want to be here.

On the walk home, all I could think of was the size of that spaceship, its massive engines, the inner design. How many people I could fit inside, I couldn't stop spinning up adventures as we hurtled through the dark reaches of space.

Smart enough to dream big but stuck without wealth, I slogged through life, working my ass off to afford a crappy apartment on the city's outskirts. Getting anywhere near the academy required a sponsor—someone with money, connections, and far more influence than Orla. Without schooling or backing, my only path into that world came with a price tag I couldn't touch.

I sat in silence, took a deep breath, tried to clear my mind and turned my attention to the Android program.

They couldn't fix this. Why?

Idiots.

Doli's program sprawled like a labyrinth of half-finished ideas, tangled with patchwork repairs that screamed desperation. To me, it offered something far more compelling, a challenge, a puzzle demanding to be solved. By day, I scraped by as a mechanic at Marts and Sparks. By night, I transformed, diving into coding forums and hacking competitions, absorbing knowledge hidden from most.

My fingers stroked the cool metal of my computer's port before locking it into place. A powerful jolt shot through me, and the real world slipped away.

NOS-DOLI System Interface Active

VR Mode: Engaged

Cognitive Load Index: 67% – Moderate strain

Now before me, lay a 3D virtual reality scene. Codes and scripts swirled like a never-ending storm, one that I adored, felt perfectly at home in.

However, the enormity of the undertaking here was obvious. This was more than a lot to fix. The joy of it flooded my veins though, finally something that challenged my mind properly. I disassembled the code piece by piece, each broken string I cleaned up revealed another, buried deeper and more devious.

The code was crowded with redundancies and fractured loops, resulting in a dizzying knot of inefficiency. It blew my mind the android was even functioning at all. Each pull revealed more knots.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

I cracked my knuckles and created subroutines from scratch, sculpted new pathways for her, then I rearranged her processing centers to maximize her efficiency. Doli required more than simply repairs; she deserved an upgrade too. With each tweak, doubt hung over me. The academy's engineers should have noticed this. It wasn't hard, at least not for me.

Pain stabbed behind my eyes, it was sharp and relentless.

Warning: Mental Energy Reserve 18% (Capacity 6.0)

Stat Threshold Breached – Recommend Break

My body screamed at me for rest, but the thought of failure drowned out that ache. Stopping wasn't an option.

Fixing Doli became my biggest challenge yet. The memory of kids jeering, teasing me as "Mr. Fixit," echoed in my mind. Every time I moved to a new orphanage, the name followed. If something broke, it landed in my hands.

If I saw something broken, that was me, Mr. Fixit, I had to do it, nothing compelled me more than something that needed putting back together. When Orla took me in, it was a dream come true and a nightmare. She loved to bring all those unfixable things to me, and I would. I would fix all of them.

Time became irrelevant. My world faded completely from my mind, replaced by the glowing lattice of virtual connections. My eyes burned, but I couldn't stop. I was in the zone, building, reconstructing, breathing life into something that had once been broken. My hands moved without hesitation, driven by pure instinct.

Then the burning escalated. I'd never had this much pain before? Was it the new chip? I tried to ignore it, tried to focus, but my vision blurred. The lines of code merged into one large block of text. Slowly, the outside world drifted in, the dim light of my apartment, the cramped feel of the chair beneath me. The steady traffic from the road, which I admit was unusually quiet. My head pounded, and a sticky warmth was spreading across my upper lip.

Spatial Systems Intuition (Passive Queue)

Your brain forms geometric and mechanical relationships faster than standard cognitive baselines.

I yanked the port out, gasping as I returned fully to the real world. Blood was dripping from my nose, a thick crimson stain soaking through my shirt. I touched my face, and my fingers came away sticky and red. "Shit," I muttered, the word echoing in the stillness.

My body swayed, the nausea crashing over me in waves. But I had done everything I could. I needed that last 18% then it would be fixed.

After stripping off my bloodied shirt, I stepped into the shower, only then realizing how late it had gotten. Years had passed since my last nosebleed.

Why now? Stress?

No, I wasn't that stressed, maybe working too hard... Fuck what if it's their new tech? I cringed as I'd put it in my head without thinking.

I had to return to Hangar 31 tonight, could I sneak back a second time? The thought itched at me, refusing to leave. My hands twitched at the idea, craving another chance to work with that ship, to see if Doli's program could truly run smoothly after the hours I'd spent patching it together.

I grabbed myself some water, downed it in one go, then poured another. My brain was still buzzing with the worry, what if I couldn't get the last 18%. Doli was functional—but far from perfect. What if I could do more to help her? What if I could finish what the original team couldn't?

I reheated and ate Alisee's best noodles, not so best when reheated. Each bite was mechanical, a distraction as my thoughts stayed on the ship. My mind kept returning to the ship, to the idea of uploading the updated code directly to her systems, seeing her fully operational.

What if this was my chance? Not just to fix Doli but to prove that I could take something beyond broken and make it extraordinary. To take my life and do the same.

By the time I finished my meal, the decision was made. I packed my datapad, ran a quick diagnostic on the new chip, and slipped out the door, my heart pounding with anticipation, and a little fear. Hangar 31 was calling, and this time, I wouldn't leave until I knew what Doli was truly capable of.

Then with my datapad and hope in my heart, I headed back to Hangar 31. A single line of code piggy-backed on yesterday's exploit, a 22-minute replay loop before the checksum scheduler wakes up. They'd track me anywhere if they thought someone had been through their security.

Again, it was easy, and though I flipped on the work lights in the bay, no alarms, no guards. It was clear they were packing things up, and sadness washed over me.

This time, I went straight to the main console, and plugged in.

<<You're back,>> Doli said.

"Can't have an incomplete program in my head." I replied and sat.

Completing Integration: 83%... 97%... 100%

Stat System Online

<System Log – Visibility: Hidden from User>

Primary Profile Established

Name: Candidate One

Reconfiguring

Name: Piotr Argassa

System: NOS-DOLI v1.17

Status: Civilian – Unauthorized User

Progression Mode: Adaptive

Stats:

Endoskeleton: 1

Mental Energy: 6

Perception: 6

Dexterity: 2

Toughness: 3

Trait Log:

Trait: Recursive Debugger – Progress: 100%

Trait: Neuroplastic Flex – Progress: 72%

Trait: Spatial Systems Intuition – Progress: 91%

Trait: Independent Operative Mindset – Progress: 65%

Trait: Cognitive Empathy – Suppressed Expression – Progress: 58%

Trait: Urban Scavenger's Efficiency – Progress: 79%

Skill Progress:

Ship Systems 3%

AI Integration 1%

</System Log>

The 18% loaded in fast. And when I was ready, I approached the ship directly, instead of walking up to the hangar doors, I asked clearly, "Open."

With a hiss, the door dropped, and I smiled.

The interior was even more impressive than I'd imagined as I stepped inside, moving without hesitation. This compartment housed a shuttle and what looked like a small jet fighter. The wealth of resources embedded in this place was staggering, everything immaculately in place. Nothing in here was superfluous, every single slot had purpose.

Climbing the ship's main ladder, my HUD mapped out the layout: bunks, security offices, cargo holds, and a mess hall. Each section was pristine yet eerily empty, the silence amplifying the sound of my footsteps.

That's when I saw her again, she had moved from her earlier location. She stood by the central holo-pillar. That meant she wasn't decommissioned, turned off, not yet at least. "Doli?" I asked softly.

No response.

The ship's CIC, Combat Information Centre, was my next stop and lights around me flicked on as I entered. Six chairs ringed the room. I moved to what I thought was the command chair and sat. From here, I could clearly see her, "Doli, wake." I ordered.

Lights flickered in her eyes, but nothing. She still didn't wake.

The keypads at either side of the console fit my hands perfectly, and a minute later I was loading up my new fixes to the ships main computer system.

My fingers hovered over the console, nerves buzzing as I tried one last time. "Doli, wake."

For a moment, nothing happened again. Then, her head twitched, a jarring movement that made my breath catch.

Her voice crackled through the silence like an old radio signal. "I a-m a-w-wake, Ca capta-in." She stuttered, her words were flat, robotic—but there was something unsettlingly human in the way she said them.

"HUD comms only." I instructed.

Comms stabilized

<<Is this better?>>

"Yes," I replied and brought up her 3D image. "How do you feel?"

<<I do not feel,>> she replied, <<Would you like me to run startup diagnostics?>>

"Yes," I replied. "Show me on screen."

Operational Integrity: 22% – Critical

That was awful.

There were still several strings of code that needed fixing. I flexed my hands, and once again dug back into her coding.

This time it was much more fun because Doli announced every now and then, <<That really tickles!>> or <<Captain… you shouldn't.>>

Hours went by, until my parched lips smacked together, and I couldn't wet them. I really needed a drink. Stretching stiffly, I rose from the command chair and walked back towards the ship's mess hall.

Looking through all the cupboards I was surprised, the mess hall was well-stocked. MREs, packets of rice, meats, snacks, and drinks. I helped myself to a bottle of water and a protein meal box. The packet's instructions said two minutes and the microwave was just like one at home. I watched the pack spin round and around, hoping it might taste like something good. They hadn't skimped on anything, so five-star food, maybe.

Then it struck me: a sharp, scorching pain behind my eyes. I gasped and dropped the water jug as my eyesight turned white.

Warning: Neural Overload

Foreign Signal Detected – Protocol Interference

Initiating Isolation... Isolation Failed.

<<Captain?>> Doli seemed distant, like she was underwater.

Neural Integration Tolerance.

Reduces risk of rejection or cognitive desync when adapting foreign AIs or system modules. → HUD: Neural Load Tolerance: Exceeding Standard Parameters.

Flagging Trait...

I gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady myself. Something warm trickled down my upper lip, and when I touched it, my fingers came away red.

"I'm fine," I managed, but my legs wobbled beneath me.

<<Your neural patterns are showing unusual activity. The port connection is...>> Her voice cut out suddenly, replaced by a burst of static that pierced through my skull like shards of glass.

For a moment, I saw... something. Code. Lines of it, streaming through my vision like falling rain. Numbers and symbols that weren't Doli's, something else. Something buried.

<<Warning. Unauthorized protocol detected.>> Doli returned, sharper now, almost alarmed. <<Attem—attempting to isolol...>>

The static returned, louder this time. My legs finally gave out, and I slid to the floor with a groan, my back against the cold metal wall. It offered relief to my now fevered body.

A moment later and almost as quickly as it came, the pain receded, leaving a dull throb and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, I managed to stand leaning on the table once again, catching my breath.

<<Captain—duck.>> Doli's staccato voice broke through, urgent.

A shadow fell over me from behind, "I knew you'd come back."

Shit.

Major Kuba.

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