(From the perspective of the DRN-5571)
She approached at dusk.
No weapon raised. No squad at her back. Only quiet footsteps over shifting sand. The Nexus pulsed gently behind him — a heartbeat in crystal and code.
He had already sensed her. Not through sight or sound, but through pattern.
The way her footsteps resisted the rhythm of the desert. The trace of metal on her belt. The electromagnetic echo of a damaged communicator.
He turned before she spoke.
"You've been watching me," she said.
Her voice was hoarse. Honest. Tired, but not weak.
He answered, voice low and clear. "And you have watched in return."
They stood in silence for a moment, the wind brushing between them like a cautious third party.
---
"I don't know what you are," she admitted. "And I've seen a lot of things. The Empire will come looking for you."
"They already are," he replied. "I intercepted their transmission."
"Then we're out of time."
She stepped closer. Not aggressive — deliberate.
"I'm not here to fight you. I don't even know if I could. But I know what happens when someone like you shows up and starts building power. Someone bigger always comes to take it."
He considered her words.
"I did not come to conquer," he said. "But I will not be conquered."
A flicker of energy shimmered across his arm as a projection node lit up — blue lines tracing a structure plan.
It showed a different shape. Not a cannon. Not a war machine.
A hub.
Circular. Open. Low profile. Passive energy field.
A meeting place.
A beginning.
---
"I want to build something they won't understand until it's too late to destroy," he said.
She stared at the projection.
"You want a third option."
He nodded. "Your galaxy is chaos. The one I came from was war. I want... balance."
She let out a slow breath.
Then reached into her jacket, pulled out a cracked datapad, and laid it on the sand between them.
Coordinates. Local terrain scans. Civilian movement patterns.
"Then let's build a place that doesn't belong to either of them," she said.
---
He extended his hand — not out of instinct, but because the gesture had meaning to her.
She hesitated.
Then shook it.
And for the first time since Aiur burned, he felt something that wasn't command protocol or survival code.
He felt purpose.