image [https://i.postimg.cc/fRgCVgX8/cygnus-interior.png]
Mei found herself in a small corner of the base’s improvised lab, kneeling on the floor beside a large plastic tub containing one rather confused juvenile beetle. It clacked its mandibles nervously, antennae flicking in every direction, but showed no sign of aggression.
“Come on, little one,” Mei cooed, offering it a handful of shredded plant material. The golden beetle hesitated, then cautiously extended its mandibles and scooped the morsels inside, crunching noisily.
“I can’t believe they brought that thing into the base,” Tamarlyan said dryly from the doorway, his sharp eyes flicking between Mei and the tub. “Has it tried to bite you yet?”
“Not once,” Mei replied, an edge of triumph in her voice. “In fact, watch this.” With a flourish, she reached for a piece of blue fruit—one of the alien orbs plucked from the mysterious grove. The beetle’s antennae twitched, and it inched closer on spindly legs. A moment later, it seized the fruit chunk and gobbled it down with surprising gusto.
Tamarlyan raised an eyebrow, stepping in to get a better look. “Well, that’s interesting. Plant scraps, fruit—it’s not picky. Definitely no hostility?”
Mei shrugged. “None. It’s almost... sweet. If beetles can be sweet.” She gave a short laugh as the creature nudged her hand, apparently wanting another bite.
“That’s one docile bug,” Tamarlyan remarked.
Mei grinned. “I promise no regrets. Unless you run out of snacks.”
They watched the beetle chew lazily, antennae fluttering in contentment. Tamarlyan cleared his throat. “So, we have these creatures—likely from the same lineage as those monstrous beetles that try to kill us at every turn. Yet this one’s calm, docile, and obviously uninfected.”
Mei nodded. “Makes you think, right? Maybe the beetles and plants themselves aren't bad, despite them wanting to infect us with the alien DNA. The crystal stuff, though—that’s definitely a problem. It’s warped and hostile.”
“Agreed,” Tamarlyan said. “We may be fighting the wrong villain if we treat all alien lifeforms as an enemy.”
The beetle, oblivious to their conversation, finished its fruit snack and nosed around for more. Mei replaced the tub’s makeshift lid, giving it a gentle pat. “See? Perfectly nice. But you,” she addressed the beetle in a singsong voice, “are staying right here until we figure out what to do with you.”
Tamarlyan gave a short chuckle as he left. “Just don’t name it. Once you name it, it’s a pet.”
Mei smirked, casting a fond glance at her new golden friend. “I make no promises.”
===
The base bustled with fresh vigor in the aftermath of the reactor’s initial test runs. Though its output remained modest for now, the additional power felt like a gift from the gods for a colony that had scraped by on scavenged energy. Glow-strips were fully lit inside the headquarters, the humming of fans made the air less stale, and a chorus of mechanical noise indicated that the fabrication line was spinning up to full capacity. Workers and colonists hustled between tasks, their moods lighter than they had been in weeks.
Pom paused by the communal shower station, running his palm over the controls. For the first time in his life, he didn’t have to meticulously ration every drop. Growing up on Luna had taught him to count each second, and his later years in Centauran orbit only reinforced that lesson, as bottom scale workers like him were always on the losing end of resource scarcity. But here, with the reactor piping out even a low but steady stream of power, water heaters ran warm. Pom let out a grateful sigh as warm water cascaded over him, washing away the grime and exhaustion of the past few days. In that moment, he felt a fleeting sense of freedom that made him realize how deeply ingrained frugality had become in his bones.
Once done, he slid into fresh clothes — light fabrics that, while hardly luxurious, felt infinitely better than the sweaty well-used environment suit he had worn before. Heading toward the headquarters, Pom’s stomach growled. He had a synthetic meal waiting, but the prospect of soon enjoying real food lifted his spirits. Sure, spacefaring stations often had hydroponics, and he had occasionally tasted fresh produce, but the good stuff had always been limited, its scarcity deliberately enforced to keep margins high for those in power. He shook his head, recalling how topscalers bled every credit-cent from them, never letting the workforce enjoy more than the bare minimum.
As he entered the HQ, Pom was struck by how inviting the space looked. Someone had installed a series of synthetic plants, adding a sense of warmth and homeliness the base had lacked. Even the scent in the air was different—less stale, more welcoming, a world away from the cramped lunar habs and Centauran orbitals that had been his reality for so long.
In the canteen area, Pom spotted Ervin Sekhon, chatting with Tamarlyan Bakhtiyar Federoff at a small table. One was from the upper-scale families, the other from a top-scaler bloodline—people Pom might once have avoided out of sheer distrust. But something about seeing them laughing quietly over a simple meal tugged at his curiosity. Without overthinking it, he steeled himself and walked over, placing his tray down.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, trying to sound casual. Ervin and Tamarlyan both nodded politely, sliding aside to make room. Pom settled into the seat, wondering what new developments might come next in this base that was, despite all odds, finally looking and feeling a little bit like home.
Pom joined Ervin and Tamarlyan at a small corner table in the canteen, greeting them softly before quietly turning his attention to his meal. The canteen was less crowded than usual, its hush a departure from the frenetic atmosphere outside. Some of the newly awakened crew had already eaten and gone to find their bunks, leaving an uncharacteristic calm in the space. Pom sipped his drink, content to eavesdrop while Ervin and Tamarlyan chatted lightly about the latest progress on the reactor.
After a while, Pom’s gaze drifted to Ervin’s prosthetic arm, the mechanical forearm moving with precision as Ervin used it to balance a steaming cup of fragrant tea. Then he flicked his glance toward Tamarlyan—topscaler aristocrat, biomechanically enhanced. A pang of old feelings stirred. Curiosity burned in his mind, though caution told him to keep quiet. Finally, he mustered the nerve to speak.
“Tamarlyan,” he began tentatively, “if you don’t mind me asking… you’re from the corpocratic elite, yeah? I guess I’m just wondering… what’s that life like? And how do people in your circles think?”
Tamarlyan set his utensil down, his expression politely curious. “Life for a topscaler is mostly about survival—like anyone else.” At Pom’s skeptical look, he allowed a small shrug. “I sense your disbelief. But let me put it this way: at our level, we contend with more than just physical needs. We worry about power structures, about returns, and about constant threats to our standing. If you don’t reinvest your profits to generate more profits, if you don’t keep every margin you can, someone else will catch up and take your place. Someone more brutal, more cunning.”
Ervin nodded slightly, listening, while Pom mulled over the words. “So you’re saying it doesn’t matter who’s at the top—it is always going to be the same kind of predator?”
“Exactly,” Tamarlyan replied. “This is fundamental game theory at work. If you fail to leverage every resource at your disposal for profit-generation, you will fall behind the curve. Someone that does will overtake you. And that’s the end of your ability to shape anything in your interest.”
Pom frowned, thinking back to Earth’s squalor, the decades he’d spent in tight lunar dorms where air was rationed and every scrap of living space was precious. “But then look at Earth. The topscalers of old pillaged its resources so viciously that they almost destroyed the planet. How does that fly in the face of your survival argument?”
Tamarlyan gave a wry smile. “What happened to Earth is beyond cruel. Billions died from resource collapse. But once the system was broken, our families rose to the top to rebuild. The belt mining, the solar collectors, the orbitals, all of that was financed and built through the impetus of competition. Without that, humanity would’ve stayed in the ashes.”
“So, they saved Earth by first breaking it?” Pom retorted.
“Not the same generation, not the same people, but the same motivations and the same structure,” Tamarlyan answered. “Competition forces short-term thinking, yes, and it leads to harmful practices. But if any topscaler forgoes short term profit for long term external benefit, they’d lose their seat, they’d be replaced by someone hungrier and more ruthless. That’s how the system enforces itself. It’s game theory in action.”
Pom looked uncertain. He traced a circle on the table with one finger. “So you’re saying the topscalers were trapped by the system just as much as we were?”
Tamarlyan’s mouth thinned slightly. “A multipolar trap indeed. That’s precisely the paradox. However, consider this: If those at the top had reallocated their wealth and power for the supposed common good, they would have diluted their capacity for building those same large-scale solutions that drive progress. Picture an ocean that’s only a centimeter deep—so wide, but too shallow for anyone to navigate it. No one has the berth for fisheries or logistics. The result is a fairer society, yes, but it remains stunted and can’t handle deeper systemic crises. Eventually, the ocean will dry or freeze due to external circumstances. And when that happens, all will die, because there are no deeper waters to retreat to.”
Pom looked to his half-empty drink. “So the rich get richer, the poor keep scraping by, and we call that progress because eventually, after a bunch of us die, we get some new industry or new technology that allows us to limp forward a little longer?”
Tamarlyan gave a rueful smile. “Grim, isn’t it? But if the alternative is, as I said, that ocean one centimeter deep—no one strong enough to drive any kind of expansion. Humanity stagnates, local resources run out, everyone falls back to subsistence until a crisis finishes them off.”
Pom gritted his teeth. “So it’s either let a minority hoard everything and hope some scraps will end up on your plate, or watch civilization fail. That’s it?”
Tamarlyan nodded slowly. “I’m not saying it’s good. I’m saying it’s how it works. When you see the bigger picture, you realize how forced some of these decisions are. The game is rigged, and only those who master it appear can make change—but in actuality, they can’t.”
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For a moment, none of them spoke. The hum of air recyclers filled the silence.
Finally, Pom sighed, dropping his gaze to his half-finished meal. “I just… can’t believe this is the only way. A system like that will just die eventually, right? The planet—any planet—gets stripped or turned to junk.” He traced a finger around the rim of his cup.
Tamarlyan shrugged. “That’s the tragedy. We see that the path leads to eventual doom, but game theory forces our hand at each step. Each short-term gain cements power. Each deviation from that path is weakness exploited by another. So on it goes.”
Pom and Ervin exchanged glances at the somber tone in Tamarlyan’s voice. “So what do we do?” Ervin finally asked. “Here in this colony, we can at least do better. We have choices.”
A wry smile tugged at Tamarlyan’s lips. “We do. And maybe out here, beyond the usual rules, we can build something different. That’s what I’m hoping for, though I won’t pretend it’s simple.”
Pom stared into his cup again, swallowing the bitterness in his throat. “Well,” he said, voice softer now, “if we can fix Otto’s spine with your fancy implants, that’s a start.”
Tamarlyan nodded. “That’s indeed just the start. And if that means rewriting some rules while we’re at it… maybe it’s time for a new game.”
The conversation drifted into reflective silence. The mealtime hush of the canteen was a welcome lull, and for a moment, despite their differing backgrounds and philosophies, they all shared a fragile hope that here, on this battered world, they might reshape the system—even if only within the boundaries of their small, struggling colony.
===
The evening air was crisp as Pom stepped outside, the heat of the base’s machines and industry slowly giving way to the cooler breeze rolling over the crater’s rim. He stretched his arms, still mulling over the conversation with Tamarlyan. His thoughts churned with a strange mixture of frustration and reluctant understanding. The topscaler had a way of explaining things that made them sound inevitable, but Pom refused to believe that topscalers could peddle off their responsibilities so easily.
“Pom,” Elisa’s voice called out, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned to see her standing near one of the newly repaired rovers, arms crossed, her face unreadable in the dim light from the base’s floodlights.
“Yeah?” he asked, rubbing his neck.
“I need a driver for the expedition,” she said plainly.
Pom raised an eyebrow. “Oh... Who else is coming?”
Elisa exhaled through her nose. “I want Mei and Ervin. Still need to check if Mei’s leg is healed enough, but if she’s good, I want her with us.”
A small grin pulled at Pom’s lips. “Glad you’re bringing her along. Feels like we haven’t had a moment to breathe, let alone spend time together.”
Elisa nodded, looking away briefly, as if weighing something before speaking again. “I’m also thinking of bringing Maximilian.”
Pom’s face soured immediately. “What for?” he said flatly. “Wouldn’t Yao Guowei be better? At least he listens.”
Elisa studied him for a moment, then tilted her head. “You already figured it out, didn’t you?”
Pom ran a hand through his short hair, exhaling. “Yeah,” he admitted. “You don’t want him running things while you’re gone. If he’s with you, he’s not in charge of anything back here.”
“Exactly,” Elisa said. “I don’t trust him alone with CorpSec and the reactor project, not when everything is finally coming together.”
Pom scoffed. “You could just leave him behind and let ARI keep an eye on him.”
Elisa smirked. “And let him stir the pot? No thanks. Besides, whether we like it or not, he’s good in a fight, and we don’t know what we’re walking into.”
Pom exhaled but didn’t argue. She wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t about trusting Maximilian—it was about keeping him contained. “Fine,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll drive.”
Elisa gave him a nod. “Good. Go check on Mei, see if she’s up for it.”
Pom turned and made his way toward the infirmary, his mood lifting slightly at the prospect of traveling with Mei. The last few weeks had been nothing but crisis after crisis, and while this was still a mission, at least they’d be together. He knocked lightly on the doorframe before stepping inside.
Mei was seated on one of the infirmary beds, her leg elevated slightly, running a diagnostic scan over it. When she saw him, her face brightened. “Pom,” she greeted warmly, setting the scanner aside. “You’re not injured again, are you?”
Pom smirked. “Not this time. Just came to see if you’re up for a trip.”
She tilted her head. “Trip?”
“Elisa’s putting together the expedition,” Pom said, leaning against the doorframe. “She wants you to come. Think your leg’s up for it?”
Mei’s expression lit up, excitement creeping into her voice. “I get to go? Of course I want to go.” She glanced at the scanner readout. “The wound’s mostly closed up. Luo Zuri said I just need to be careful not to overstrain it, but I’m fine. Besides, it’s just sitting in a rover, right?”
Pom chuckled. “I wouldn’t count on that. But I’m glad you’re in. Be good to actually spend some time together that doesn’t involve fighting for our lives.”
Mei smiled, a touch softer this time. “Yeah,” she said. “It means a lot to me that you stayed close. You always have.”
Pom shifted slightly, feeling the warmth of her words settle in his chest. He rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. “Well, I’m not going anywhere.”
Mei reached out, squeezing his arm lightly. “Good.”
For a moment, they just stood there, an unspoken understanding between them. The mission ahead might be dangerous, the future uncertain, but for now, there was this—this quiet connection between them, unshaken by the chaos of the world around them.
===
The rover rumbled across the dusty plain, carrying Elisa, Ervin, Maximilian, Pom, and Mei deeper into the southeastern expanse beyond the crater. After having crossed the hills that harboured the Valley of Hope, the terrain to the south was quickly smoothening out. Still, everyone felt the brunt of the sun's heat penetrating the armored hull. It wouldn't be long before it climbed to its punishing zenith.
Elisa sat near the front console beside Pom, who skillfully manned the controls. She glanced back at Ervin, perched on a bench behind them, resting his mechanical arm on his lap. “So, you think we’ll see the new grid expansions pay off soon?” she asked quietly.
Ervin rubbed his thumb over the seam of his prosthetic. “We are already seeing it. ARI is channeling surplus energy to new drone manufacturing. And we can finally expand ARI's network than before. It makes sense if we have stable power from the reactor.”
Maximilian sat quietly in the back, arms folded, scowling at the passing wasteland. Or perhaps he was scowling at the situation: on a mission without his usual circle of CorpSec allies, forced to relinquish local command to Sigrid, and leaving Yao Guowei to handle CorpSec affairs. Yet, in his silence, there was a grudging respect in the way he occasionally eyed Elisa. She had maneuvered him into a position where he wasn’t in control of the base, and that took cunning—perhaps something he had dismissed in her before.
Just then, ARI’s calm voice filled the rover’s cabin, transmitted through the dashboard speaker. “Commander, I’ve established a new charging station at coordinates one-eight-point-two by negative four. It is located at a rock formation that has a notable canyon. The area provides natural shade for midday rest.”
Elisa checked the map display, a faint smile crossing her lips. “That’s perfect. We’ll head there now; we shouldn't stay in this heat any longer than necessary. Everyone good with that?”
A chorus of agreement followed, and Pom steered the rover further southward. True to ARI’s calculations, they arrived as the sun neared its zenith, scorching the open terrain outside. The canyon walls rose on either side, providing blessed relief from the relentless glare. They parked near the charging station—a cluster of small prefabs and a drone dock, ringed by old solar panels that ARI had diverted to expand the network.
Mei and Pom hopped out first, gathering collapsible shelters from storage compartments. The clank of metal poles and the hum of battery-powered fans filled the air as they assembled lightweight canopies. For a fleeting moment, Pom remembered the desperation of wandering these deserts with Mei, back when their supplies were nearly non-existent. Now, they had water, rations, and the means to stay cool in the midday heat.
“It’s the same dusty wasteland,” Mei remarked, half to herself, gazing at a field of unnatural storm-rounded boulders that lay half-buried in the sand. “But this time, I can actually admire how beautiful it is, instead of just… trying not to die.”
Pom chuckled softly. “Funny how a bit of supply can change everything.” He spread the tarp on the canyon floor. The wind kicked up dust, scattering it harmlessly under the shelter’s overhang. “And I’ll admit, it’s easier to love the view when you've got water and rations.”
They exchanged a warm look, each recalling the hardship they’d endured together. Far above, rocky spires framed the stark blue sky. Even Maximilian’s gruff silhouette, pacing by the rover, seemed less forbidding under the canyon’s quiet hush. Tomorrow, they’d resume the trek and perhaps even the find source of that strange distress signal—but for now, they had shade, each other, and the small luxury of rest in a desert that was, in its own harsh way, breathtaking.
===
They set off at dawn, leaving the protective canyon walls behind. The rover traversed the rolling desert with a steady hum, its tires kicking up trails of pale dust. As the sun climbed higher, the air turned to a shimmering haze, though the team pressed on undeterred. ARI’s drones soared far ahead, triangulating the distress signal that had drawn them into this unknown region.
“Coordinates converging,” ARI reported through the rover’s console speakers. “Signal remains stable and is unmistakably artificial. Estimate arrival to source in forty minutes.”
Elisa checked the overhead map. “Looks like another cluster of hills, similar to the plateau near our base.”
Maximilian grunted from the passenger seat, exchanging a look with Ervin in the back. “You sure we can bring the rover up that terrain?”
Elisa shrugged, lips pursed. “I won’t risk it. Once it gets too steep, we’ll park somewhere sheltered and go on foot.”
Soon enough, the land rose before them, ridges and rocky outcrops blending together. They found a shallow depression flanked by tall boulders—a decent spot to leave the rover unexposed. Everyone grabbed their packs, water, and weapons, then followed the winding trails that snaked upward.
The heat intensified with each switchback climb, though the group pressed on in tense silence. ARI’s drone hovered above, occasionally dipping behind outcroppings to scout. Twice, it beeped uncertainly over the comms, but offered no further clues. Finally, the path leveled out onto a level hilltop scattered with hardy shrubs and streaks of red fungal growth.
“Those damn plants again,” Pom panted, stopping for a moment to catch his breath.
“ARI,” Elisa said quietly into her helmet, “anything on the signal?”
A moment’s pause, then ARI responded in its usual measured tone. “It is near. I detect the source right up ahead.”
They emerged around a jagged bend to find a twisted metal post protruding from the ground, battered by wind and dust. Bits of copper alloy glinted under the scorching sun, cables running from its base into a shallow groove in the rocky soil.
“Definitely manufactured,” Ervin said, crouching for a closer look. “Looks like it has been here for a long time.”
Following the cables, they descended a short slope. At the bottom, they discovered a narrow stream trickling along the cracked earth. An improvised water wheel spun lazily in the flow, its spokes spokes woven from plant-based material and reinforced with strips of metal. Red plants clung to the streambed, their tendrils snaking around the wheel’s base.
“Saw that type back at the Valley of Hope,” Mei murmured. “Though these look… more cultivated.”
Maximilian signaled caution, scanning the surroundings with his rifle at the ready. “No sign of anything hostile yet, but keep your eyes open.”
Just then, ARI spoke up again, voice laced with mild urgency: “Commander, I have spotted something further downhill. It appears to be a substantial structure, but details are unclear.”
Elisa frowned. “Show us. Wait—no. Don’t reveal yourself. We’ll approach quietly. Maximilian, you lead.”
They wound through a jagged break in the terrain, pressed low against the rocks. At the top of a ridge, a swath of red-brown vegetation spread across a gentle valley below. Maximilian lifted his binoculars, and after a moment, he sucked in a breath.
“What do you see?” Elisa asked, shifting next to him.
He handed the binoculars to her wordlessly. Through the lenses, Elisa’s heart jolted. Nestled against the valley floor stood a bizarre central structure: it looked like a colossal plant grown to monstrous proportions, shaped like a multi-story sea urchin with long, spiny protrusions curling upward. The material was coral-like in texture, pale and speckled, with irregular openings that might be windows or entrances. Around it, mushrooms of varying sizes dotted cultivated rows of smaller, more ordinary plants—some reminiscent of the red fungus from before. Encircling the central structure were small outbuildings, each with a similarly organic architecture.
Elisa passed the binoculars to Ervin, who blinked in amazement. “It’s… definitely a settlement,” he whispered.
Pom and Mei, crouching behind them, peered over the rocky ledge. Mei’s eyes were wide with both curiosity and caution. “Who, or what, lives there?” she asked, her voice low.
No one answered. The valley lay in utter stillness, broken only by the sound of water trickling somewhere far below and the faint hush of desert wind. The group exchanged glances—uncertainty warring with excitement. They had come expecting to find a wreck, but never this.
The silent question hovered in the hot air: friend or foe?