image [https://i.postimg.cc/1zRwsHxF/cygnus-pod.png]

The rover bucketed over the rough topography; its suspension groaned noisily under the strain of a rock-strewn path. The sun blazed overhead, turning the cabin into an oven, even with the vehicle's cooling systems hard at work. Maximilian sat behind the controls, grim lines showing across his face as he guided the rover over another sharp incline. Beside him, Otto slowly awoke from his restful nap, his eyes blinking and scanning the barren landscape ahead.

The drop pod containing the power regulator had come down in this rugged and merciless terrain. Without it, full production chain of the base could not be brought online, which would leave the colony in a precarious state: unable to manufacture the much-needed medical supplies and replacement parts.

"At least our visibility is good," Maximilian said, his voice gruff but steady. "Not much else to be thankful for in this heat."

Otto chuckled. "I would trade the visibility for some shade and a cold drink."

"Not on this world," Maximilian replied, his hands tightening on the wheel as the rover jostled over a stretch of jagged rocks. "This place doesn't give anything for free."

The hum of the rover's engine was the only sound while neither man said a word. Finally, Maximilian spoke up, breaking the quiet. "Tell me something," he said, glancing sideways at Otto. "You volunteered for this mission, correct? What made you want to leave Proxima? Most folks would kill to be where you were."

Otto pondered. "Well... To be honest, Proxima wasn't for me. I grew up in a Folkeforening community. Different values, different priorities. Proxima's society is rigid, competitive, and obsessed with conformity... That's not who I am."

Maximilian raised an eyebrow but kept his tone neutral. "You're saying Proxima didn't grant you a sufficient degree of freedom?"

"Not freedom," Otto replied. "Individuality. Folkeforening culture is about finding your own path, making your own mark. But on Proxima, everything was about competition... Grades, jobs, even relationships. You either played by these rules, or you simply didn't matter. I could never fit into that mould."

Maximilian nodded in understanding. "Proxima was founded by the Buhakhara and the Taihezu. They have systems that are built on discipline and collective success. This is their strength, and it is what brought the Centauran worlds prosperity and unity."

Otto gave him a wry smile. "That is... a diplomatic way of putting it. Folkeforening people love to argue, to explore new ideas. We are not wired to fall in line just because someone says we should."

Maximilian chuckled, though there was a trace of steel in his voice. "Conformity is not a bad thing, Otto. Without it, you cannot have unity, and without unity, well..."

"Sure," Otto agreed, nodding. "But at what cost? People lose themselves in systems like that. They are so focused on the universal, on the collective good, the grand design-that they forget the value of the particular... The individual."

"That is a luxury," replied Maximilian. "Particulars don't matter when the whole is at risk. Pragmatism is not of ideals, but of survival. Out here, especially, we don't have the luxury of debating individual versus collective. The colony will survive only when all contribute to the whole.

Otto smiled faintly, his voice tracing with irony. "And yet, here I am. I didn't fit into your system, but I'm still here, doing my part. Funny how that works."

Maximilian allowed a slight nod. "I can respect that. You are an outlier, Otto, but even outliers can have their uses."

Otto smiled wryly. "Spoken like a true Buhakharan."

Maximilian turned to him now, his face unreadable. "And yet, here we are, driving to save the colony. It was pragmatism and necessity that has brought us to this point, not idealism."

Otto tilted his head, his tone reflective. "Fair enough. But it is idealism that makes me question what we are building out here... Are we just recreating the same systems we left behind? Or are we trying to make something better?"

Maximilian didn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Better doesn't happen without structure."

"But structure does not have to mean rigidity," Otto said, his voice calm but firm. "It can mean adaptability. Flexibility. That is something Proxima never understood."

Maximilian grunted, a sound somewhere between agreement and dismissal. "Perhaps. But we'll see what survives out here—the ideals or the necessities."

The conversation sank into silence as Otto leaned back in his seat. Outside, the rugged terrain gave way to a rocky incline as steadily the rover climbed toward the transponder signal that pinged on the glowing displays. The gleaming shape of the drop pod, half-buried in uneven ground ahead, appeared into view.

"Looks like we're here," Maximilian said, stopping the rover. He glanced at Otto and gave him a slight dry smirk, though the rest of his face remained as stern as ever. "Time to set philosophy aside and get to work."

Otto grinned. "Pragmatism wins again."

The two disembarked from the rover and made their way into the direction of the pod, their boots crunching over the rocky surface. The conversation hung in their minds, reminding them of the different paths that had brought them to this alien world, and how they would decide to shape its future.

Maximilian and Otto toiled together, side by side, in the stark output of the alien sun as the rocks emitted heat that could be felt through their thick protective suits. ARI's hovered and approached, their mechanical arms moving with fluid efficiency as they aided the digging of the drop pod. The container was halfway buried into uneven terrain, its surface dulled and rugged, scarred through atmospheric descent.

"Almost there," Otto grunted, feeling the sweat cling to him in his suit as he heaved a chunk of rock away from the pod's edge. "This thing better be worth it."

"It is worth it," Maximilian replied tersely, using a crowbar to pry loose a stubborn piece of debris. "The base doesn't run without that regulator."

The drones pulled free a last layer of compacted sand to expose the pod. Now within reach, the access panel was visible. Maximilian entered the override code and the hatch popped outwards with a metallic clang. Inside, the power regulator lay nestled safely in foam padding, the vital piece of machinery that would finally restore the base to operational capacity.

"Got it," Maximilian said as ARI's drones hefted regulator and secured it in the cargo hold. "Let's move. It is still a long way back."

The rover rumbled back toward the base, its tires grinding over the rocky terrain. Maximilian drove in silence for a while, his expression inscrutable as the landscape blurred past. Otto eventually relieved him, and Maximilian slept silently in his harness, his military background affording him the ability to find rest, no matter the circumstances. When he awoke, night had fallen. He stared ahead into the darkness, the matte glow of rover's heads up display highlighting any obstacles its sensors detected.

"You have that look," Otto said, breaking the quiet. "Like there is a story you're not telling."

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Maximilian's hands tightened slightly, but he didn't respond immediately. "I've been thinking about what you said earlier—about systems of power and unity. About people being lost in the collective."

Otto tilted his head, intrigued. "What about it?"

Maximilian didn't look away from the display. "I wasn't always a CorpSec officer. Before that, I was part of the Bosharoff household guard. The great family of the Buhakharan League. My job was to protect their interests on Earth—sometimes quietly, sometimes not."

Otto raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were from Earth."

"I was," Maximilian said simply. "And then I wasn't. I was sent to Proxima as part of an advanced security detachment. The Bosharoffs had reasons to believe that the DaFeng family was plotting to to take over the shipyards and force the Buhakharans out. My team was supposed to make sure that didn't happen."

"And?" Otto prompted.

Maximilian sighed before responding. "And... nothing happened. The plot was a phantom, a shadow of paranoia. The Bosharoffs and DaFengs went on to rule Proxima together, as they always have. But by then so much had become clear. My transport and everyone on it had been denied landing rights for 'political reasons'."

Otto frowned. "I heard that, but Proxima media said the inbound transport was merely subject to additional security checks. What happened? Did they just... Leave you there?"

Maximilian nodded, his tone bitter but controlled. "Earth-side reinforcements were not needed. They had their trusted Proxima resources now. So, we were stuck in orbitals. Overcrowded, under-resourced, with no way to return. Thousands of us, both Bosharoff and DaFeng troops alike. Both discarded by the systems we have pledged to protect."

"That is…," Otto began, searching for the right word.

"A betrayal," Maximilian completed hiim. "But I had years to process it. The truth is, Proxima owed me nothing. The systems I believed in, the order I defended—they didn't fail me. They worked exactly as intended. I was just another piece to be moved off the board when I wasn't useful anymore."

Otto studied him a moment longer. "And now? How do you reconcile that?"

Maximilian's lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile. "You don't. You do your job, follow the directives from those in charge, and try not to think about the cracks too much."

Otto leaned back, his voice reflective. "It is ironic. The system that valued prosperity and unity discarded you, while you call my philosophy of adaptability and individuality a luxury."

Maximilian grunted. His face didn't reveal anything. "Perhaps it is a luxury. Perhaps it is also right. In any case, our system is the only thing we have. Without it, it is just chaos. And, in the end, the system was correct. It didn't need me. If it had, the system itself would have failed. There would have been a civil war. Not unity."

"You know, Maximilian, you're a colonel, not just another CorpSec grunt... You have the intellect to understand systems, even redesign them. You should do more than follow orders or uphold something broken. You could build something better."

Maximilian looked at Otto, his face unreadable. A moment of silence passed between them, save the hum of the rover. Then he spoke, his voice measured. "There's a reason the great and minor families have ruled for thousands of years, Otto. It's not just power or credits-it's biology. Do you know what it means to be a true topscaler?

Otto leaned his head. "I have read about them, sure. Genetically enhanced, cybernetically augmented, groomed to rule. But I have never worked with one, if that's what you're asking."

Maximilian's gaze remained out to the horizon. "I have. When I was in the Bosharoff household guard, I had the 'privilege' of serving under one of their true elites. The intellectual abilities of the ruling families are… terrifying. Enhanced people like us-you, me, Elisa-we can play the common baseline people with ease. Manipulate them, direct them, control them. But true topscalers? They're on another level altogether."

Otto frowned, leaning a bit forward. "How so?"

Maximilian pondered for a moment and then exhaled heavily. "It's not just that they think faster. They think broader. Deeper. They see relationships and opportunities we can't even imagine. While we struggle to manage one department, a regiment or a single colony, they easily lead the destinies of whole corponations, entire worlds. It's not just intelligence. It's focus, discipline, charisma, longevity, and genetic engineering perfected over generations."

Otto leaned back, the weight of Maximilian's words sinking in. "And you're all right with that? Serving systems that benefit a few and treat everyone else as expendable?"

Maximilian let out a bitter chuckle. "All right with it? No. But I understand it. Systems like this don't survive millennia by accident. They're designed to endure. People like you and me, even at our best, are still just pieces in their game.

Maximilian glanced at Otto again, his voice shifting to something softer, almost conspiratorial. "You know what's going to happen when we bring back the power regulator, don't you?"

Otto raised an eyebrow. "The base gets fixed. The refinery goes online. We start stabilizing."

Maximilian shook his head. "It's bigger than that. ARI will be forced to awaken the young heir of the Federoffs. A minor family in the Buhakharan League, but still aristocracy. That child has a legal claim to priority revival. It's not just about fixing the base—it's about reinstating the old systems, step by step."

Otto slowed the rover some, his eyes fixed ahead. "And you are okay with that? After you yourself got the short end of the stick."

"You think we have a choice?" Maximilian replied, "It's inevitable. The Company statutes, the programming of ARI, the cryopod protocols-they are all hardwired to reestablish the old order. Fighting it would be like trying to stop a hurricane with a tarp."

From Otto, silence spoke volumes, his face troubled.

"But," Maximilian said, his voice softening once more, "there's opportunity in inevitability. If you work with the system, instead of against it, you can shape your place in it. People like you and Sigrid-idealists, yes, but valuable. You could be rewarded. Protected."

Otto turned to him, his face hardening. "Do you think Sigrid or I care about being rewarded? We came here to build something new, not to crawl back to the same old hierarchies."

Maximilian's lips thinned. "You care about Sigrid, don't you? Think of her future. What's more likely to protect her - a broken dream of independence, or falling in step with the inevitable?"

Otto's fists clenched on the wheel, but his voice remained steady. "You're asking me to betray everything I believe in."

"I'm asking you to survive," Maximilian said sharply. "And to ensure that Sigrid survives too. Your ideals will not save her. Do you think ARI cares about freedom and individuality when resources are scarce and discipline is needed?"

As the rover emerged from a shallow gorge, the outline of dark crater ridge stood out amongst the bright, star-lit sky. The conversation hung heavy in the cabin, the weight of Maximilian's words circling in Otto's thoughts. For the first time, Otto felt the fragility of what they were trying to build, and the enormity of what they were up against.