Amongst the Stars of Cygnus [Hard Sci-fi Survival]

From the broad viewport of his newly assigned private quarters – a spacious module overlooking the bustling vehicle yard – Davron Mansur Federoff watched the flurry of activity below. The Phoenix lander, back from its unsettling journey to the frozen anomaly, was the center of attention. Ground crews swarmed around it, refueling, running diagnostics, and patching the minor wear from its recent flight. The scene was one of purposeful industry, a colony in motion.

Beside him, Tamarlyan stood with a datapad in hand, while Mikhail Petrov, Davron's ever-diligent legal counsel, was meticulously reviewing a stack of digital legal documents projected onto a portable screen. The air in the quarters was cool and filtered, a stark contrast to the dusty heat of the crater floor.

"The legal ramifications of… reinstatement, Director," Petrov began, his voice a dry murmur as he scrolled through dense paragraphs of UEC and Company statutes, "are, as expected, unprecedented. However, I have made some initial headway."

Davron turned from the window, his expression unreadable. "Proceed, Mikhail."

Petrov swept through the projected entries. "Upon your… prior cessation of life functions, Director, standard inheritance protocols were triggered. As your designated sole heir, the majority of your shareholdings in the Company were automatically transferred to young master Tamarlyan Federoff."

A muscle twitched in Davron's jaw, a fleeting sign of disquiet that he quickly suppressed. He had anticipated this, of course. It was standard procedure. Yet, hearing it confirmed aloud… it was an unwelcome reminder of his temporary non-existence and the subsequent shift in familial hierarchy. He glanced at Tamarlyan, who met his gaze with an expression of polite, almost innocent, attentiveness.

"And my current legal status, Mikhail?" Davron asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Petrov offered a thin smile, the first hint of good news. "Here, the situation is more favorable, Director. Most of your personal claims, titles, and privileges were tied directly to your person, to your unique identity signature. While some contracts contain 'on death' termination clauses, many do not. These do not to account for… resurrection. As such, your reinstatement means many of your original rights and privileges are, in fact, still legally intact and assertable."

Davron nodded slowly. That was… acceptable.

"Furthermore," Petrov continued, "a significant portion of your contractual obligations were terminated upon your prior decease. The legal entity Davron Federoff ceased to exist, thus nullifying those responsibilities. The reinstated Davron Federoff is, in many respects, a new legal person, albeit one retaining the rights of the former." He allowed himself a small, satisfied smirk. "A rather convenient loophole, if I may say so."

"Convenient indeed," Davron murmured. "And the inheritable assets, as you said, transferred to Tamarlyan. What of the remaining shares in the colony initiative? The ones not under my direct control prior to… events?"

Petrov consulted his notes. "Commander Woodward, as the highest-ranking surviving officer at the time of her revival and subsequent command, inherited the standard captain's allocation, as per emergency succession protocols. Interestingly, some of the other topscalers who were revived—those without direct heirs designated within the Dolya's manifest—have had their original share allocations returned to them. These shares became unassigned upon their deaths and, with no superseding claims, reverted to the original individual upon reinstatement. As a result, General Secretary Lin Xiu Ling, 'Koko,' currently holds the second-largest individual share package, after Master Tamarlyan. Third is Director Jiang Wei, who also controls a significant quantity of shares."

Davron's brow furrowed slightly. Koko. Ambitious, sharp, and now a significant shareholder. Another variable to manage.

"The majority of shares, however," Petrov concluded, "remain unallocated – held in the Company's reserve pool, or pending fulfillment of various performance-based conditions, such as those tied to Commander Woodward's operational targets. Currently, Director, no single individual or foreseeable bloc holds a majority voting interest."

An uneasy silence settled in the room. Davron looked at his son, the unasked question hanging heavy between them: And what of my shares, Tamarlyan? The ones you now hold? He wanted them back. It were his funds, his investment, the foundation of his personal legacy. But how to ask? How to demand from his own son what was, by law, now his son's possession? The thought was galling.

Tamarlyan, as if sensing the unspoken tension, offered a small, guileless smile. "A complex situation indeed, Father. The legalities of resurrection are proving quite… intricate."

Davron's patience thinned. He turned to Tamarlyan directly, his voice losing some of its carefully cultivated neutrality. "Speaking of intricate situations, Tamarlyan. I was… surprised to learn you had designated Commander Woodward as your heir for your colonial shares. An unusual choice, wouldn't you say?"

Tamarlyan didn't flinch. He met his father's gaze evenly. "A strategic gesture, Father. Designed to foster trust and cooperation with the current command structure. As Mikhail has just outlined, no single entity holds a majority. Even if Commander Woodward were to gain my shares and meet all her performance targets, she still wouldn't control a decisive vote. It is, in essence, a token of goodwill. A political maneuver with minimal practical impact on the overall share distribution. All quite moot, from a control perspective."

Davron wasn't satisfied. A token? Goodwill? From a Federoff? It felt… uncharacteristic. Or, more likely, too cunning in a way he hadn't yet deciphered. But Tamarlyan offered no further explanation, his innocent expression a perfect, unyielding mask. Davron knew when he was being stonewalled, even by his own son. He let out a slow, frustrated breath and turned back to the viewport, his mood souring.

Below, the tiny figures of the colonists continued their diligent work on the lander, oblivious to the subtle, high-stakes games of inheritance and power being played out in the spacious quarters above. Davron stared out at the crater, a deep irritation simmering within him. He was back, yes. He had his status, his privileges. But the board had been rearranged in his absence, and his own son held a significant piece he felt compelled to reclaim.

===

The alien grove, nestled in a quiet corner of the crater, pulsed with a soft, internal energy. The air was still and warm, carrying the faint, earthy scent of the red plants and the rich, metallic tang of the underlying ore deposits. Pom and Jocelyn walked hand-in-hand, their footsteps muffled by the spongy, moss-like groundcover that carpeted the spaces between the towering fungal stalks.

Jocelyn tilted her head back, her eyes wide as she took in the bizarre, beautiful landscape. The giant mushroom-like structures, their caps a mixture of deep crimson and pale, veined white, soared towards the filtered sunlight, their surfaces shimmering with a faint bioluminescence. Smaller, more intricate growths spiraled from the earth, their delicate tendrils uncurling like alien ferns.

"It's like walking through a dream," Jocelyn whispered, her fingers tightening around Pom's. "I've never seen anything so… alive. So strange."

Pom squeezed her hand back, a soft smile playing on his lips. The grove still made him uneasy – he couldn't shake the memory of Mei's transformation, the unsettling intelligence he sensed within the plants – but seeing it through Jocelyn's fresh, unburdened eyes softened some of its alien menace. "Yeah," he agreed. "It's definitely something else. Mei found these things are practically a one-stop shop for the colony – water, food, minerals, even medicine."

They paused beneath one of the larger stalks, its surface smooth and cool to the touch. Jocelyn reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing against the pale, almost translucent material. A faint, rhythmic pulse seemed to emanate from within it, like a slow, steady heartbeat.

"Do you think they know we're here?" she asked, her voice hushed.

Pom shrugged. "Mei thinks so. Says they respond to her. Grow new things. Change." He looked around the grove, at the silent, watchful plants. "Still gives me the creeps, though."

Jocelyn laughed softly, leaning her head against his shoulder. "You're just a big softie, Pom Mansouri. Afraid of a few pretty plants."

He grunted, but there was no real heat in it. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. "Maybe," he admitted. "But I'm not afraid when I'm with you."

They stood in comfortable silence for a while, surrounded by the quiet thrum of the alien ecosystem. The light filtering through the caps of the mushroom forest cast shifting patterns on the ground, painting their faces in soft hues of red and gold. Jocelyn sighed contentedly, nuzzling closer into his side.

"It's good to be back, Pom," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Really good."

He turned his head, his lips brushing against her hair. "It's good to have you back, Joce." He hesitated for a moment, the unspoken complexities of her return, the child, the lost years, hovering at the edge of his thoughts. But looking at her now, at the simple, unadulterated joy on her face as she marveled at this strange new world, he pushed those thoughts aside. For now.

"You know," he said, his voice a low rumble, "I never thought… after everything… I never thought I'd get to just… stand here with you again. Just be."

Jocelyn tilted her head up, her eyes meeting his. They were clear, bright, filled with an affection that made his heart ache and soar all at once. "Me neither," she whispered. "But we did. We're here."

He leaned down, and she rose on her toes to meet him. Their kiss was gentle, tender, a silent promise in the heart of an alien world. It tasted of second chances, of shared history, and of a future that, despite all its uncertainties, felt suddenly, breathtakingly possible again. The strange, alien life of the grove seemed to hold its breath around them, a silent witness to their quiet, improbable joy.

===

The atmosphere in the conference room was thick with unspoken agendas. Elisa sat at one end of the long, polished table, flanked by Mei, Ervin, and a composed Helena Petrova, whose presence seemed to radiate a quiet, assessing energy. Across from them, the full contingent of directors occupied their seats with an air of established importance. Davron himself presided, Koko to his left, Jiang Wei and Dmitri Ganbold to his right, with Sasha Borodin, Mikhail Petrov, and Lodon Zavorokhin completing their side of the table.

A new, and to Elisa, unsettling addition was Commander Jin Altan, the former Executive Officer of the Dolya. He sat beside Maximilian Barinov, and the two shared a look that spoke volumes – a quick, almost imperceptible smirk from Altan, a subtle nod from Maximilian. It was clear they had conferred before this meeting, and Altan's allegiance, Elisa intuited with a sinking feeling, was already decided. He wasn't going to be an ally, and he wasn't going to be subtle about it.

The meeting began with the mundane. Ervin Sekhon and Dmitri Ganbold presented a joint overview of resource allocations. Ervin detailed the strain on organic compound synthesis for the reinstatement substrate, while Ganbold, with his characteristic air of apperent helpfulfulness, outlined projections for increased thorium processing and power distribution. New expansion plans for the base were displayed on the central holo-table – dedicated fabrication lines for advanced alloy components, expanded agricultural modules, reinforced perimeter defenses. All logical. All necessary. Elisa found her attention drifting, her mind already bracing for the inevitable political chess match to come.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Then, Doctor Bao Vang, Jiang Wei's lead xenophysicist, took the floor. He gestured towards a complex diagram of what Elisa presumed was a Provider biotech schematic. "Commander, Directors," Vang began, his tone polite, academic, "my team and I have been diligently analyzing the available data on the Provider's technologies. While the potential is… extraordinary, our research is hampered by a lack of comprehensive procedural documentation and in-depth studies on the long-term effects, particularly concerning the reinstatement process." He offered an apologetic smile towards Mei. "We understand Doctor Qi and her team are exceptionally busy with the ongoing revival schedule, which is, of course, paramount. However, this very process, the creation of new life from… preserved templates, raises profound ethical and safety considerations that require rigorous scientific oversight."

Mei's expression remained neutral, but Elisa saw the slight tightening around her eyes.

Vang continued, his voice earnest. "There should be more ethical oversight, Commander. For the well-being of every colonist. We are, after all, dealing with procedures that are entirely without precedent in human history."

Elisa wasn't convinced. This felt less like genuine concern and more like another attempt to insert their own people into a critical control point. Before she could formulate a diplomatic deflection, Vang gestured to Mikhail Petrov.

"In fact, Mister Petrov has identified certain UEC legal statutes," Vang said, "that pertain to the implementation of untested and potentially unsafe medical procedures on human subjects. Mikhail?"

Petrov cleared his throat, his gaze sweeping the table. "Indeed, Doctor Vang. UEC Charter Section 117, Sub-section 28, Paragraph 12, clearly prohibits medical interventions with unverified long-term safety profiles or those lacking comprehensive peer-reviewed efficacy data, especially when alternative, established treatments exist. Failure to adhere could, theoretically, expose the colony command to… significant legal culpability, should adverse outcomes arise." The legal jargon was delivered with a smooth, almost casual precision.

Elisa felt a familiar frustration rising. They were already trying to tie her hands with rules from a dead civilization. "Mister Petrov, Doctor Vang," Mei interjected calmly before Elisa could speak, "your concern for colonist safety is noted. However, Section 117 pertains to medical procedures performed on living individuals. The reinstatement process, as currently practiced, initiates with biologically non-viable remains. Legally, these are not persons protected under that specific statute until after successful revival and cognitive reintegration. At which point, they are, by definition, no longer undergoing an 'untested' procedure but are the result of a successful one."

Petrov conceded with a slight inclination of his head. "A legally astute distinction, Doctor Qi. Correct. However, the initial brain scans and neural uploading of living individuals for preservation purposes, should they choose to undergo the preliminary stages of the reinstatement protocol before cessation of life, could indeed fall under such scrutiny. The long-term effects of such neural interfacing are, as Doctor Vang stated, not yet fully understood."

"And there remains the fundamental question," Bao Vang added, his tone one of genuine, scholarly concern, "of whether the reinstated individual is truly the same entity. This is a matter of profound existential importance that naturally should concern every person in this colony. Until such philosophical and scientific uncertainties are thoroughly studied and addressed, perhaps a temporary embargo on further widespread application of the full reinstatement technology would be prudent? To ensure we are not inadvertently risking the very essence of what it means to be human, or the psychological well-being of those we bring back?" The subtle accusation hung in the air – that Elisa and Mei were acting unethically.

Elisa had heard enough. She cut through Vang's concerned rhetoric with a firm, decisive tone. "Doctor Vang, your team's dedication to ethical considerations is commendable. We will, of course, continue to rigorously study and document every aspect of this technology. Doctor Qi and Reverend Sekhon will ensure their findings are shared with all relevant parties. However, an embargo is out of the question. We have people waiting, lives depending on this."

Vang opened his mouth to protest, but Elisa met his gaze directly, her own unwavering, and he fell silent. Helena, seated beside Ervin, gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of approval. The other topscalers, however, exchanged subtle, displeased glances at Elisa's breach of conversational protocol, though their expressions remained carefully neutral.

Koko, ever poised, smoothly shifted the topic. "Commander Woodward, a more immediate operational concern. The ore convoy led by Doctor Luo Zuri from the Provider settlement. They are significantly overdue. What is their current status? And what is the disposition of the Provider's settlement itself? Our access to their refined metals is… strategically important."

"Drone S-07 has not yet located Doctor Zuri's convoy, Secretary Lin," Elisa replied. "We expect an update shortly. As for the Provider settlement, our last contact indicated they were stable and awaiting further… exchanges."

Sasha Borodin leaned back, swirling a nutrient drink in his glass. "One hopes Doctor Zuri's team is merely delayed by weather and geography. However, this continued reliance on, and proximity to, the Provider and its… influence, does raise ongoing security questions. Perhaps the colony could, and should, do more to contain that influence, to control the dissemination of their technology more rigorously? This incident, should it prove to be more than a simple delay, would be another unfortunate indication of why such prudent measures are vital."

Elisa nodded slowly. "We are, of course, constantly assessing and addressing the challenges and opportunities presented by our interactions with the Provider, Mister Borodin. Ensuring the colony's security and technological independence remains a paramount concern." Her statement was deliberately vague, a non-committal acknowledgment. Sasha noted it with a slight narrowing of his eyes, but Elisa simply repeated, "We will continue to address these matters with due diligence." She offered no further details, leaving him to interpret her words as he wished.

A brief, charged silence filled the room. The topscalers clearly felt their points had been made, their influence asserted. Davron Federoff began to subtly gather his datapad, a signal that he considered their business concluded.

But Elisa held up a hand. "Before we adjourn, Directors, there is one final matter I wish to discuss."

The topscalers paused, surprised. Davron raised an eyebrow.

Elisa met their collective gaze, her voice calm but carrying a new, unmistakable firmness. "We've discussed resource allocation, ethical oversight, strategic partnerships. Now, I'd like to discuss your direct, practical contributions to the colony's ongoing operational needs."

The polite smiles on the faces of Davron's cohort wavered. Jiang Wei blinked. Dmitri Ganbold's jovial expression froze.

"As you are all aware," Elisa continued, "this colony is built on the labor of every individual. We are mining, fabricating, farming, maintaining systems, defending the perimeter—all essential, demanding work. While your strategic insights and past funding are… historically noted, the immediate reality is that we require all available hands to be productive. I have asked you before, but this time I am going to ask you directly: how do you, and your immediate staff, intend to contribute, on a practical, day-to-day basis, to the core operational tasks that sustain this colony?"

Sasha Borodin was the first to recover, letting out a strained, overly hearty laugh. "Commander, with all due respect, our expertise, our value, has always been at the macro level! Strategic direction, financial structuring, inter-corporate negotiation! The Federoff family, the Wei industrial conglomerate—our primary role was to enable ventures such as this."

Jiang Wei nodded vigorously, eager to support the deflection. "Precisely, Commander! Our contribution is, and always has been, foundational! Take ARI, for instance. A significant portion of its core processing architecture, its advanced heuristic algorithms, were developed and contributed from my company's intellectual property portfolio! A contribution of incalculable value to this colony's very existence!"

Elisa tilted her head, a dangerous, thoughtful glint in her eye. "Fascinating, Director Wei. A truly foundational contribution indeed. Then perhaps you could enlighten us on some of ARI's more… nuanced architectural elements? For example, the specific failsafe mechanisms to prevent unaligned behavior? Or perhaps the core logic of its threat assessment matrix when dealing with unknown xenobiological entities? Or, how does it balance probabilistic risk analysis with the imperative for self-preservation of its drone assets? Given your company's deep involvement in its creation, I'm sure you possess an intimate, working knowledge of these critical systems and their inherent safety parameters?"

Jiang Wei's face flushed a dull red. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, stammering. "Well, I… I, of course, oversee the… the overarching strategic development, Commander. The… deeply technical minutiae, the specific algorithmic implementations… those are typically handled by my chief AI architects and systems engineers. Many of whom… as you are aware… are still pending reinstatement and… and full operational integration."

Elisa let the silence stretch, her gaze unwavering. The discomfort of the other topscalers was palpable. She had, with surgical precision, exposed the hollowness of their claims to foundational expertise. They were figureheads, accustomed to delegating, to overseeing, to benefiting from the labor and intellect of others. Confronted with a demand for actual, applicable knowledge, they faltered.

Then, just as the tension became almost unbearable, Elisa's expression softened. She offered a small, almost apologetic smile. "My deepest apologies, Director Wei. It seems my own technical background has once again led me to overlook the… profound complexities of high-level strategic management and corporate asset deployment. I sometimes forget that not everyone shares my… obsession over practical and operational details."

She turned her gaze to the rest of her audience, her tone now one of innocent, almost naive, helpfulness. "Perhaps, to avoid any future misunderstandings, please allow me—and indeed, the entire colony—to better appreciate and leverage the unique skillsets each of you bring. With all the influx of personnel, it has become difficult for me to properly allocate all newly available human resources. Thus I have recently decided to appoint doctor Helena Petrova as the colony's talent manager." She nodded briefly to Helena.

"Thank you, Elisa," Helena said as she returned the not and readied herself to address the directors, smiling coldly. "It would be much appreciated if each of you could prepare a brief report for my review. A concise summary of your specific qualifications, your areas of proven expertise from your previous roles, and perhaps a detailed proposal outlining how you intend to apply those skills directly to benefit the colony's current projects and most pressing needs. I, and I'm sure the rest of the operational staff, would find such insights invaluable in optimizing our collective efforts."

Elisa beamed at them as she rose and prepared to leave the room. "I look forward to reading your reports with great interest. Thank you all for your time."

The topscalers remained seated, exchanging wary, unsettled glances.

===

The door to the conference room hissed shut behind Elisa, leaving the discomfited topscalers to their thoughts. In the corridor, Mei, Helena, and Ervin fell into step beside her. The silence held for a moment, thick with the residue of the meeting.

"Well," Helena finally said, a ghost of a smirk playing on her lips, "that was… effective."

Ervin, however, looked troubled. He ran a hand over his prosthetic arm, a nervous habit. "Elisa, that was a significant gamble. Accusing them, however politely, of not pulling their weight… challenging Director Wei on his supposed expertise… You might have just slammed the door on any potential for genuine cooperation."

Elisa exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly now that they were clear of the room. "Ervin, with all due respect, what 'genuine cooperation' were we ever going to get from them? They weren't offering partnership; they were offering us the privilege of implementing their directives. Every 'suggestion' they made was a step towards them reasserting control, just like they always have."

Helena nodded vigorously. "Elisa's right. Giving them more time to 'acclimate' would only allow them to consolidate their power further. They'd weave their networks, revive their loyalists, and chip away at your authority piece by piece until you were Commander in name only. Their maneuvering with Jin Altan made that perfectly clear – they went straight to him, bypassed you entirely. They were already building their faction before they even sat down at the table."

Mei chimed in, her voice tight with concern. "And what about the Provider tech? The reinstatement? You heard Vang and Petrov – they're already looking for legal and ethical loopholes to restrict it, to put it under their 'oversight.' If they gain control of that, they control who lives, who dies, who gets revived. They'd hold the ultimate power."

Elisa nodded grimly. "Exactly. Which is why we can't afford to be passive. We need to understand this technology better than they do, faster than they do. We need to be the ones setting the agenda for its use, not reacting to their attempts to contain it."

Ervin sighed, the lines on his face deepening. "You're not wrong about their intentions. But direct confrontation… it can backfire. They are skilled in political warfare. They could find ways to outplay you."

"They're already united against the idea of an equitable colony, Ervin," Elisa countered. "The only difference now is that they know we see it. And maybe, just maybe, knowing they can't just roll over us with polite smiles will make them think twice." She looked at Mei and Ervin. "We need to accelerate our own research into the Provider's biotech. Mei, I want you to lead that. Full access to all data, all resources. Ervin, I need you to work with her on the ethical frameworks – not the ones they want us to adopt, but the ones that actually serve this colony, all of its people."

Mei's eyes lit up with a determined spark. "Consider it done, Commander. If they want reports, we'll give them reports so dense with actual science they won't know where to begin."

Ervin managed a small, reluctant smile. "It seems the path of quiet contemplation is over. Very well. If we are to build a just framework for this new existence, it must be built on understanding, not fear or control."

Elisa looked at the three of them – her core team, the ones who had been there through the worst of it. "They think this is still their game," she said softly. "They haven't realized the rules have changed. Or maybe… that we're about to take a shot at writing them."