Conrad's journey from the Union base to the Long Rim was a blur of confusion and fear. He had been taken in by the far-field team with promises of safety and care, but their patience had worn thin. His compulsive fixing of their ship, his muttering about the void, and his constant inquiries about the Wayfarer had grated on their nerves.

Only one person on the ship had shown him any real kindness: Varshan Kulidez, a quiet, introspective engineer who seemed to understand Conrad’s obsessive need to fix things. Varshan had a knack for seeing beyond Conrad’s eccentricities, recognizing the trauma that lay beneath.

“Don’t mind the others,” Varshan had told him one evening, while they were both working on a stubborn piece of machinery. “They don’t understand what you’ve been through. Just keep your head down and do what you need to do.”

Conrad had nodded, grateful for the solidarity. It was Varshan who had helped Conrad get through the long, lonely nights on the far-field team’s ship, listening to his ramblings about the void and the Wayfarer. When the rest of the crew decided they could no longer tolerate Conrad, Varshan had tried to intervene.

"We can't just leave him," Varshan had argued with their leader. "He's been through hell. He needs help, not abandonment."

But their leader was adamant. "We can't have him jeopardizing our mission. We're dropping him off at the Long Rim. It's the best we can do."

Varshan had given Conrad a small device, a communicator rigged to send a distress signal if he ever found himself in real trouble. “Just in case,” he had said, pressing it into Conrad’s hand. “Use it if you need to. I’ll come for you if I can.”

The Long Rim was a lawless expanse, a frontier where survival depended on cunning and strength. It was not the void, but the desolation and danger it harbored were close enough. When they left him on a dusty outpost, Conrad felt a strange mix of abandonment and relief. Here, at least, he was free from their judgmental stares and whispered conversations.

Conrad stood in the middle of the bustling market, clutching Athena’s core module to his chest. The outpost was a chaotic sprawl of makeshift stalls and ramshackle buildings, populated by a motley assortment of traders, mercenaries, and scavengers. He needed to find a place to install Athena, to bring her back online. She was his only link to sanity, his only hope of making sense of this new environment.

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"Find a place, Jackson," he muttered to himself, navigating the crowded streets. "Athena can help. She always helps."

After hours of searching, he found a small, run-down repair shop at the edge of the market. The sign above the door was faded and barely legible, but it promised repairs and installations. Conrad entered, the bell above the door jingling faintly.

An older man looked up from behind the counter, his eyes narrowing as he took in Conrad’s disheveled appearance. "What do you need?" he asked gruffly.

"I need to install this," Conrad said, holding out Athena’s core module. "It’s an NHP unit. Can you help?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "An NHP, huh? Not many folks around here have use for those. What do you want it for?"

"She’s...she’s my friend," Conrad replied, his voice trembling slightly. "She can help me get back to my ship. Please, I just need a place to install her."

The man studied Conrad for a long moment, then sighed. "Fine. I’ve got a spare workstation in the back. It’ll cost you, though."

Conrad nodded, fumbling with the few credits he had left. "I can pay. Just...please."

The man led him to a cluttered back room filled with outdated equipment and parts. Conrad worked quickly, his hands steady despite his anxiety. Within minutes, he had Athena’s core module connected to the workstation and powered on.

"Athena?" he whispered, as the console hummed to life. "Are you there?"

"Initializing," came Athena’s familiar monotone. "System check complete. Hello, Conrad."

Relief washed over him. "Athena, I need your help. We’re in the Long Rim. I need to find a way to get back to the Wayfarer."

"Data insufficient," Athena replied. "Further information required."

Conrad sighed, but he couldn't let frustration take over. Athena was a simple NHP, limited in her responses for now. He had to find a way to survive and gather the resources he needed. He thanked the shop owner and left, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

Conrad began to navigate the chaotic environment of the Long Rim, determined to find a way back to his ship. With Athena’s guidance, he avoided the more dangerous pitfalls and slowly started to gather information. Every night, he would sit in his small rented room, talking to Athena and planning his next steps.

"The void devoured them," he would say, staring out at the stars. "But I’ll find them, Athena. I’ll bring them back."

And Athena, ever patient, would respond, "Acknowledged, Conrad. Objective logged."

With each passing day, Conrad’s resolve grew stronger. The Long Rim was a harsh and unforgiving place, but it was not the void. He had survived the darkness once; he could do it again. And with Athena by his side, and Varshan’s communicator in his pocket, he would continue to fight, to search, and to hope.