He activated his portable XPT rig—a jury-rigged mess of wires and outdated hardware. It was like performing brain surgery with a pocketknife. He linked his neural pattern to Kaelen's fractured matrix.
He found the core shard—the original Kaelen, a small, terrified figure curled in the captain's chair, repeating, "I have to be perfect. I have to be perfect." xpt trainer
He knelt in front of Kaelen, ignoring the nurses' worried glances. He didn't plug into the neural-link. He spoke, raw voice to raw silence. He activated his portable XPT rig—a jury-rigged mess
The freighter's bridge flickered. The alarms softened. He found the core shard—the original Kaelen, a
Marcus didn't offer comfort. He grabbed the young man by the collar and shouted over the alarms.
The screen in Marcus’s neural-link flickered, displaying the cold, official seal of the Federal Bio-Augmentation Bureau.
A standard XPT trainer would use calming protocols, gentle reconstruction. Marcus was not standard.