Technological Terror
There was a certain beauty in desolation.
An unpopular observation, perhaps, but Helix had always found popularity overrated. All one needed to survive, and thrive, was ingenuity and imagination. A certain disregard for the rules never hurt either.
As it was, being here definitely disregarded the rules. Nam Chorios was certainly desolate, and thus, certainly beautiful. Endless harsh dunes and scrublands populated by hardy, well-adapted life, and dotted here and there by great crystalline mountain ranges.
At any other time, Helix might have been tempted to stop and take in the scenery. It wasn't his first time here; the Confederacy had held this world, many a century ago, but they were a distant memory. Now there was only himself, and his errand.
He'd seen no other sentient life in his time here. As in many deserts, living things tended to hide during peak daylight hours. To do otherwise was to tempt the wrath of Nam Chorios' violet-hued sun, peeling skin from bone and sapping precious, life-sustaining water. Few creatures could survive out here for long, not unless they knew how to wrest survival from the land itself.
The good news was that such mortal frailties were foreign to Helix. The baking temperatures went unnoticed and unheeded.
The bad news was that his prey were hiding too, terrified by this apparition that had come for them. For once, he didn't trust this one to anyone else. Time had taught him self-reliance, hammered it into every atom of his ever-shifting physical self. This was a job he'd have to do on his own.
He'd only collected a few of the living crystals so far. Each had been stripped down to its constituent essence, to be recreated later at his leisure. He could feel every single one of those captive molecules vibrating in terror, but there was no escape for them now.
As it stood, night was approaching soon, and the temperature had correspondingly begun to plunge. He'd have preferred more samples, but it didn't look as though he'd be getting them now. The Tsil were alerted to his presence, and had gone fully into hiding. No matter. What had been taken would suffice.
He could have simply returned to orbit and left Nam Chorios to its dark memories, but Helix had always been one to savor his victories. This was certainly a victory. Maybe one that would change the galaxy, given time and the successful collection of a few more ingredients.
The tall, lanky being spent a few minutes gathering dry wood, then piled it beneath a small, rocky overhang. He didn't require warmth, shelter, or even rest, but it felt right anyway. A humble moment of celebration before the storm.
Helix held up one finger, and concentrated. The digit's constituent cells vibrated rapidly, causing it to visibly glow with heat. He laid the burning digit upon his campfire, and soon, he had a bright, cheery little beacon of life in the midst of the freezing desert evening.
There was no telling who (or what) would be drawn by so obvious a dinner bell, but he didn't care. Whether an enemy stumbling upon dangerous prey, an old friend, or just a hapless passerby, none of them could stop him any longer. So he sat, waited, and watched to see what would come crawling out of the dark. Maybe none would come, and he would pass the night in silence, but that was fine too. Emptiness had a way of providing its own answers.