Against an unending backdrop of countless stars, a single man stands at the edge of a gaping hole in the side of a mangled starship.

"There isn't much left, is there?"

"Estimated that 43% of the vehicle bay is simply, . . . gone."

Nodding to himself, he makes his way around the jagged edges and into the cavernous bay. It is slow going, and more than once he snags his suit on something sharp.

He's found a generator and five power cores in just under two hours time. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he looks he is unable to find more.

After an uncharacteristically long silence, the computer speaks.

"I will need to cycle the cryo pod in just over an hour, and I estimate it will take nearly that long for you to return there."

The implications of the computer's words are left unsaid. The man nods, sighing deeply.

"Understood."

The trip back to the cryo bay is quiet, only the sounds of the man carrying an impossibly large bundle can be heard, the massive load only made possible by the complete lack of gravity.

When he reaches the edge of the cryo pod, he can tell it's cold from the faint layer of frost on the glass panel. However he takes comfort knowing that his daughter is safe and warm inside.

"Computer, if we cycle the pod, freeze her now, can I safely hook to the generator afterward?"

"The cryo pod has a one hour independent power supply for exactly that kind of situation."

Sighing in relief, the man nods.

"Ok, give me a moment with her, then we'll cycle the pod."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"There are still two problems we must address if there is any chance of survival. The first is that with two pods, we will fall 23% short of the time needed for the earliest possible rescue. The second is that there is no way to contact help."

"I've run the numbers in my head a thousand times for the first problem. We've got plenty of power for what I have planned. The second problem is easy, it's a little trick that I heard about, some miner set up a power loop through their environmental suit and hooked to a power supply. Sort of gave the suit a little charge, then when that charge wore off it sent a ping through the metal piping in the mines which in turn triggered a switch that gave the suit a new charge. Caused a ping about once every half hour, full battery aught to keep a steady ping for a hundred years longer than we need it for. Any ship following our path should hear it easily if we don't drift too far off course."

Pulling his helmet off, he can feel the bitter cold of the room bite into his flesh, his lips ache almost instantly and he knows within a minute frost will start to form on his skin.

Seemingly oblivious to his own discomfort, he opens the pod and leans forward.

"I love you baby girl."

He lets his lips touch her brow and instantly realizes his mistake as his lips freeze to her flesh. She begins to cry, and in his haste he splits open both his lip and her forehead.

"Oh God, I'm sorry."

Knowing that sealing and cycling the pod is the quickest way to stop the bleeding, he does so, his tears freezing as he cries.

Quickly, he places his helmet back on before the frigid temperatures can make what comes next impossible.

"I don't understand. With the information I possess, I can not formulate any situation where both of you survive."

"I know. If I had gotten enough power cells, what would our chance of survival be?"

"81% chance of the generator giving out before rescue."

"And the odds are pretty similar that I would have run out of oxygen going back for a second generator even if I didn't have to magboot across the hull."

His words are a simple statement. Even as he speaks, he is working to set up the generator for what he needs it for.

"The moment I mentioned the cryo bay, I already knew I was dead. Now, tell me what her chances of survival and rescue how things stand right now, with what I plan to do?"

"97% chance of survival and rescue. Cryo pod has been cycled successfully, and occupant's vitals are all within safe ranges."

He nods absently.

"Start recording. Every word I say until the end. I want my daughter to receive this recording when she's old enough to understand what I'm saying."

As the man begins to talk, the screen slowly darkens. While the scene has a sort of finality to it, the television announces that there is one final episode before going to a commercial break.