[h3][b]Mark A. Lopez[/b][/h3]

Mark had claimed a corner of engineering and made it his. Nobody had assigned it but the workbench had a dent in the metal lip now where he kept resting his elbow, a scatter of tools laid out in a way that only made sense to him, and one of his half gutted drones sat in the center like a patient mid-surgery.

The ship had settled now, it wasn't the most comfortable situation, but things had settled enough. Systems were holding and people starting to fall into routines instead of panic.

Which meant he finally had time to think, but historically that was when things got complicated.

The drone chassis in front of him was one of the better survivors. It's frame was relatively intact, only moderate damage to its sensor array and actuator joints. He’d already stripped out what didn’t matter and left the skeleton of something workable.

Mark leaned over the console beside him, flicking between schematics he had sketched out and the drone itself.

“Alright…” he muttered, “Let’s not make this stupid.”

The idea was simple on paper, take the existing drone platform and push it further. It would not just be remote-operated but rather something that could act without him babysitting every second.

It wasn't a a full AI, no even close. He wasn’t that reckless.

What he was building was closer to a structured helper unit with ayered protocols, conditional responses and predefined task trees. Enough autonomy to handle routine work: inspections, minor repairs, maybe even basic hazard response.

It would seem smart but under the hood, it would just be a very complicated set of instructions.

Mark tapped the screen, zooming in on a logic chain.

“If sensor detects breach... isolate, compute to patch or flag.”

Another.

“If obstruction detected... clear if within force tolerance.”

He frowned.

“Yeah… until it decides a person is an obstruction.”

He scrubbed that line and rewrote it.

The whole reason drones like this weren’t already standard issue was because of limits from before he was born. Every time someone pushed too far toward autonomy, someone else started using words sentience and rogue.

Big red lines with big consequences. Mark leaned back in his chair, he rubb2d his face.

“Not an AI,” he said quietly, like he needed to hear it out loud, "Just… better tools.”

Still, he glanced at the half-built unit again.

It wouldn’t need him to directly pilot it. It could follow routines, adapt within bounds, switch tasks based on conditions. Coordinate with other units, maybe, if he got the sequencing right.

That was… close enough to make people nervous. His eyes drifted to the ceiling for a second.

“Who’s even enforcing that anymore?” he muttered.

There was no central authority, oversight boards or inspectors knocking on bulkheads asking for compliance logs.

Just a half-crew on a colony ship running on borrowed time and improvised solutions. He exhaled sharply and pushed himself up from the bench.

“Yeah, that’s a problem for later.”

He powered down the schematic display, giving the drone one last look before stepping away.

It would work eventually, it might make things easier around, but not tonight. Mark stretched his shoulders and grabbed a rag to wipe his hands.

Engineering smelled like metal, oil, and recycled air that had been recycled one too many times. He was getting tired of it.

“Fresh air,” he muttered, already heading for the hatch, “Or whatever passes for it.”

On a ship like this, air that had just been someone else’s problem five minutes ago could he the one he was breathing now. He stepped out into the corridor, letting the door hiss shut behind him.