I don't like sand

Maxwell walked slowly through the desert, each step raising small clouds of dust that quickly disappeared in the dry wind. The heat was oppressive, and he raised a hand to shield his eyes from the intense sunlight. Removing his pilot helmet to ease the stifling sensation, he found that the pilot suit only made the heat feel even more unbearable.

"I should've installed a cooling system in this damned suit," he muttered to himself, pulling a water bottle from his ECHO storage. He had left the Spectres in the Samson, as Angel could use the visors to see, which would save him the headache of explaining how a spaceship the size of a city had appeared out of nowhere.

Pouring the refreshing liquid into his mouth, a few drops trickled down his chin before he capped the bottle and put it away. He looked around, searching for any kind of shelter, but the horizon stretched on endlessly, devoid of shade or reprieve.

"Angel, about the Corporate Wars," Maxwell began, trying to distract himself from the heat and discomfort. "I've heard a few versions, but I want the real facts, no narratives or half-truths. Also, what year is it exactly?"

"The First Corporate War began between Atlas and Dahl in the year 2681. Currently, it's the year 2713." Angel's voice resonated in his mind, her tone laced with concern for Maxwell's condition. "Haven't you found your ship yet? Is it cloaked? You're going to die of dehydration at this rate!"

"Thirty-two years since the war, huh?" Maxwell shrugged, ignoring her scolding as he trudged toward a cluster of rocks that offered a bit of shade. "Tell me more about this first war."

"*Sigh* You're so stubborn." Angel paused as if organizing her thoughts. "It all began in 2648. The Atlas Corporation was funded by the Central Government to consolidate control over the six galaxies. They were essentially an extension of governmental power. But in 2671, a major financial recession weakened the Central Government. With resources depleted, Atlas stepped up, assuming the role of maintaining security and order across many systems."

Maxwell nodded, murmuring, "Of course, when governments crumble, corporations become the new feudal lords."

"Not exactly. The Central Government still exists today but has no influence over Promethea. Instead, they serve as a private judicial system." Angel continued, briefly addressing his comment. "Dahl saw this as an opportunity. In 2674, they launched 'Mercenary Day,' offering free mercenary services for a day in exchange for future contracts. It was a brilliant strategic move. By the end of that year, Dahl had taken control of several planets, offering 'protection' and services at reduced costs. People, exhausted by insecurity, accepted."

Maxwell reached the rocks and leaned against them, pulling at his suit collar to release some of the heat. "And Atlas just let that happen?"

"Not exactly. In 2675, under political pressure, the Planetary Sovereignty Act was passed, prohibiting corporations from directly controlling planets. But tensions continued to escalate. By 2681, things hit a breaking point. Dahl was expanding aggressively, occupying and oppressing planets with brutal policies. Resistance arose, starting with a man named Vladof."

Maxwell raised an eyebrow. "Vladof? I didn't think that corporation was formidable enough to stand up to two giants."

"Vladof wasn't just strong because of his intelligence. His ideology resonated with the oppressed, forming one of the largest armies in terms of sheer numbers. He began by leading a rebellion against Dahl on a planet called Northern Siberian Bear Star. Through guerrilla tactics, he drove Dahl out, inspiring resistance on other planets and giving birth to the Vladof Corporation we know today."

Maxwell took a deep breath, pondering how a single individual could alter the course of a war. Dahl could have potentially bested Atlas with its underhanded tactics. If Vladof had achieved so much as a mere man, what could Maxwell accomplish with Titans at his side? "So, Dahl was dealing with both Vladof and Atlas at the same time. That explains why they didn't dominate completely."

"Exactly. Dahl was aggressive, but Vladof's resistance wore them down. Meanwhile, Atlas, desperate, turned its attention to the ruins of Promethea. There, they hired Typhon DeLeon, who became the first Vault Hunter. He discovered the Eridian Vault and brought advanced technology to Atlas. That completely shifted the tide of the war."

Maxwell rolled his eyes. "Eridian technology, aliens are always the miraculous answer, aren't they?"

Even in Titanfall, it was the same. The IMC had discovered alien tech and developed weapons like the Fold Weapon and PhaseShift gloves.

Angel agreed. "With this new technology, Atlas managed to tip the scales in their favor. However, in 2689, the war ended in a ceasefire. Atlas, Dahl, and Vladof reached a stalemate, officially ending the conflict. But the scars remain. Dahl and Vladof are now in an arms race, hunting for Vaults, while Atlas doesn't seem satisfied with just one Vault, leading to their expeditions here on Pandora."

"A never-ending cycle. War, rebuilding, and more war." Maxwell looked at the sky, a hint of emotion flickering across his face. 'The year is 2713... Did I really reincarnate into another universe? Or am I still in the same one, just sent into the future? Does Earth even exist here?'

Shaking his head, Maxwell opened his hangar menu, scanning his options for a vehicle.

[Vehicles] IMS Odyssey {Warship/MotherBase}: Self-sustainable vehicular spacecraft, transportation for Titans and aircraft, modular factory. 20630[C]

Without hesitation, he selected the Odyssey. Its modular factory could produce nearly any Titanfall technology, provided he had the blueprints. There were larger, more war-oriented ships available, but without a crew, operating one was impossible.

[Attention: The selected ship bears another faction's logo. Would you like to change the corporation branding?]

Slightly surprised, Maxwell scrolled through the options, erasing the IMC logo and replacing it with a black snake in the shape of an infinity symbol devouring itself, with the name Ouroboros below.

Once finalized, the Odyssey materialized as if emerging from a void, creating a massive cloud of dust in an instant.

"*Cough* *Cough* Damn it, I should've kept my helmet on!" Maxwell could swear he swallowed a bit of sand.

"Max, what happened? I suddenly felt a massive energy signature. Why haven't you hooked up your ECHO? I want to see this ship, damn it!" Angel complained, her excitement palpable even through telepathy.

When the dust settled, the majestic form of the Odyssey stood revealed to the world.

"OOOHHHH!!!" Maxwell's eyes sparkled with delight as he ran eagerly toward the ship's entrance.

"Holy shit, it's so big up close!"

"That's what she said."

"What did you say, young lady?" A vein bulged on Maxwell's forehead. "Where did you learn to spout such nonsense?"

"From you! Now connect me to the ship already; I want to see too." A laugh, like the sound of a bell, echoed in Maxwell's mind, bringing a smile to his face as he watched the girl brimming with joy.

"Call the Spectres here. You can see through their lenses and connect via one of them."

"Okay, but how am I supposed to do that without the coordinates?"

"Right, I forgot," Maxwell almost smacked his own forehead, realizing he was in the middle of nowhere. "I'll use the ship's systems, then."

Maxwell turned his attention to the Odyssey. Taking a few steps forward, he heard a notification in his helmet. Upon putting it on, he noticed an administrator request. It seemed the system had already granted him permission.

With a voice command, the ship's doors opened, and a staircase descended to ground level, granting him access to the vessel.

Maxwell ascended the stairs with wide strides, like a child exploring a new amusement park. The moment he stepped inside the Odyssey, the internal lights turned on automatically, illuminating a perfectly polished metallic corridor. The sound of his footsteps echoed lightly through the empty space, making the ship feel even larger inside.

"Smells like something brand new." Maxwell took a deep breath.

"You're acting weird, Max."

"Let me have my moment, woman."

Walking through the entry corridor, he reached a metallic door that appeared to lead to the center of the ship.

"Welcome aboard, Administrator," a calm and professional artificial female voice said.

"No way! Does the ship come with its own AI? What a bargain!"

"No, it's just me." Angel mocked.

"..." Maxwell mumbled something inaudible.

Placing his hand on the panel, the door slid open, revealing the lobby of the Odyssey. It resembled a reception area, with cozy sofas and a low table, like a lounge.

"It's like a luxury hotel mixed with a military base," Maxwell commented, impressed.

"Yes, I literally just saw that," Angel replied sarcastically.

The floor was made of polished metal, subtly reflecting the overhead lights but not to the point of being slippery or excessive. Subtle blue LED lines ran along the walls and floor, creating a futuristic yet functional aesthetic.

Moving forward, he passed through another door that led to a corridor lined with several doors. Each was marked with holograms indicating their functions—dormitories, a mess hall, a gym, and even a simulation room.

Intrigued, he entered the simulation room, which strongly reminded him of the opening of Titanfall 2, where Cooper trained with Lastimosa.

A quick count revealed exactly 94 simulation pods, ready to train promising soldiers to become Titan pilots. These machines could simulate shooting drills, parkour with jump kits, piloting, and even team deathmatch scenarios. The possibilities were endless.

"Honestly? This is an amazing ship, judging by your reaction. If you don't wreck everything before figuring out how it works, this could be a game-changer."

"Don't underestimate me. Now let's head to the command bridge. I want to see what this beauty can do."

Leaving the simulation room, Maxwell decided to make his way to the command bridge. There was still much of the ship to explore, but he was eager to get the ship to Outer Haven as soon as possible.

Taking an elevator, Maxwell was carried to the ship's fifth floor, where the high-ranking officers' quarters and the command center were located.

After passing through numerous security doors, each equipped with turrets ready to shred any intruder like paper, Maxwell finally entered the command center. The room was cold and comfortable, a stark contrast to the ship's exterior.

At the center of the room was an oval-shaped holographic table, glowing softly. Its display showed various data: star maps, system diagnostics, and the ship's overall status. Around the table were ergonomic chairs, indicating that the space could double as a strategic meeting room while managing the ship's operations.

The walls were made of reinforced glass, allowing a real-time view of the space outside. Maxwell was excited to see how it would look in orbit, as his previous space travels hadn't allowed him to appreciate the cosmos properly.

Heading to the far end of the command center, Maxwell found the Odyssey's main control station. It was a spacious, well-designed area with sophisticated consoles and interactive panels arranged in an arc around the main command space. Each console seemed dedicated to a specific function: navigation, defense systems, environmental monitoring, and energy management.

At the heart of the piloting area stood an elevated chair that was unmistakably the captain's seat. It resembled a throne, with plush cushioning and an array of controls built into the armrests. Holographic screens floated nearby, ready to be manipulated with simple gestures. Maxwell couldn't suppress a grin, he was living the dream of countless men.

"Well, Angel, what do you think? Do you think we can get this thing off the ground?" Maxwell asked, settling comfortably into his throne.

"If you don't mess everything up, yes. Everything seems operational. But I still need to connect to the ship."

Resisting the urge to play with the holograms, Maxwell used the communications system to send the ship's coordinates to the Spectres.

Minutes later, the Odyssey's cameras captured a dust cloud in the distance. The Samson, piloted by the two Spectres, approached rapidly. The ship detected the vehicle and activated guide lights in the hangar to facilitate entry.

Maxwell accessed the hangar controls, opening the ship's large lower bay doors. The ramp descended smoothly, providing a direct path into the vast hangar interior.

Once everything was ready, Angel used one of the Spectres to connect to the ship, enabling her to understand and manage its systems. Her Siren abilities were impressive but came with heavy limitations, something Maxwell understood well. In a universe rich with technology, what couldn't Angel control?

"Ready for the engines?" Maxwell asked, his enthusiasm evident.

"Almost. I'm just monitoring the nuclear reactor's temperature," Angel replied calmly. Controlling a ship this massive would have fried anyone's brain, but Angel was already used to pushing her limits.

Angel fine-tuned the main controls and activated the propulsion systems. A faint hum reverberated through the ship, growing into a controlled roar as the engines roared to life.

"Next stop, Outer Haven," Maxwell said, a smile breaking across his face. "But first, let's swing by the Red Light. I want to see how Moxxi reacts to having a warship over her bar."

"You're going to scare the woman to death, Max. This is overkill."

"Just a little prank."

Maxwell leaned forward, resting his arms on the chair as he monitored every panel closely.

The Odyssey began to rise slowly from the ground. Desert dust billowed into a colossal cloud as the ship's thrusters stabilized its ascent. Maxwell's heart raced. This was the moment he had been waiting for.

Standing from the throne, Maxwell walked to the front viewport, watching the ground grow distant. Then, he paused in silence.

It was happening. Everything was falling into place. He was mere steps away from initiating the next phase of his plan. Yet, a weight lingered in the back of Maxwell's mind.

"..."

"Angel," he said quietly, "do you think this will ever change? Or are we trapped in this cycle?"

"What exactly are you talking about?" Angel asked, surprised by the question.

"War," Maxwell clarified. "I'm talking about war."

Angel hesitated, her voice softer now. "I don't know, Max. But maybe you're here to be part of the change. Don't you want to create a corporation?"

"Ouroboros, my corporation..." Maxwell whispered. Looking at the horizon, distorted by heat, he fell into deep thought.

"Have you thought of a name?" Angel asked. She hadn't seen the logo since her Siren abilities only allowed telepathic perception.

"Yes. Do you know the Ouroboros symbol? The snake is eating its own tail." Maxwell crossed his arms behind his back, gazing at the vast expanse of sand. Stretching his hands as if to grasp it all, he continued: "All the people on planets under my domain will have only three rights."

Angel's stomach sank at Maxwell's words. She was about to witness the birth of either a great leader or a great dictator.

"The first is the right to freedom."

"The second is the right to private property."

"And the third is the right to life."

"Our motto will be..."

"Don't tread on me!"