Booker grunts. "Probably a good idea." To Hack-It, "Send a message to all Pact Worlds, the Stewards, and the Council. The sivv threat has been eliminated. Free-willed denizens of this ship petition for the protections of the Pact, and the right to pursue peaceable relations with all intelligent life within its sphere of influence."
After a moment, he adds, "See if y'can get a readout on how many intelligent lifeforms remain aboard. And... how many of 'em are sivv."
Hack-It complies, sending a broadcast text message to anyone within nearby space a note. It's pretty terse, saying: Good news, we won Full control of the Prime by me, Admiral Hack-It. We got some non-sivvs aboard who want to live, so maybe don't shoot anymore. They want to talk. Ship is set in reverse anyhow for now, moving away from Absalom Station.
To the Council he adds: Job done. Ready to collect payment.
"You know Gig, if this is the end, I'll say that I'm glad it ended in front of a computer. Despite the music, you're alright."
Your pretty alright, yourself, Hack. But wait, what’s wrong with all the music? You know that it has to be played at loud volumes to get the right feeling?”
Gig also rests to regain stamina.
Janzi is looking over the rest of the party for wounds and freezes as Hack-It makes his announcement, shaking his head as he gets back to work. *Admiral* Hack-It should go down with his ship, he thinks to himself.
After being satisfied that the rest of the group isn't going to keel over in a moment, he takes 10 and then sets off to find the fungal colony and the scutoid advertising AI.
Lacking the system wide comm Booker's asking for, Gig switches to use Ark Prime's.
At first nothing happens, but suddenly everyone's comms light up. Most of the fleet officers sound a retreat, while a few give orders to escort you home.
While moving to the Maiden you get in touch with a transport of marines. They offer to escort survivors to the station.
You are hailed, for a second time, as heroes and are afforded as much rest as you desire. However, the question of what do with Ark Prime and the sivvs on board eventually rears its head.
"We estimate there are 2,500,000 sivv aboard. What should we do?"
Given your status, your first hand knowledge, and your expertise, the counsel turns to you. "What should we do?"
"I have no problem assuring you that I have never met a single Sivv that did not want to annihilate our entire civilization. For a while, I even spent time living like a Sivv and I can assure you that it was not fun. They did not even let me play my music! Perhaps somebody might find some redeeming qualities in them if they work hard at it, but I just can't admit to seeing any yet."
Janzi switches off the comlink a moment. Find some uninhabited rock with zero tech, he says to the Ysoki twins, and we'll see if we can recommend that as the drop-off point for the Sivv.
"I would support that decision. Just make sure you take away all technology and let them live with themselves for a while until they evolve into something a little kinder."
Gig scours the infosphere looking for information on a planet that would habitable for the Sivv that is far and remote where they could be transplanted.
Hack-It shrugs. "This doesn't really sound like my problem. No offense. But I say do what you want with the. But they're all a#*+@@!s, and I'd be happy to never see one again."
Booker grunts, in a more disapproving tone than usual. "It'd be heavy decision to doom an entire species to oblivion. You sure you're ready to sit wit' that?" He sighs. "Sending 'em somewhere with no tech ain't gonna work either. You think none of two-and-a-half million sivvs can't remember how to build a spacecraft? A spacecraft wit' guns on it? Nah."
"This ship's decked out with reprogramming tech. I say we re-wire that to give 'em a chance at integrating inta Pact Worlds society. Throw inta the trenches of the Veskarium War, then the peace after. And the battle against the Swarm. First contact with the Kasatha. Incorporation of the Idari inta the Pact. And so on. Give 'em a chance at least---one that they never gave us."
"Or anyone else, for that matter."
"It's a pretty bold move to ask five people who just spent the better part of who knows how long fighting the sivv this whole question. This is something for the politicians to figure out, not us," Hack-It says, irritation showing. "How often do you ask your army's soldiers this question? After we just saved the cheese for everyone in the solar system, maybe figure this one out yourselves? Because you aren't getting unbiased opinions here."
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I agree with Booker regarding exile. They are an advanced and highly intelligent race. I do not doubt that, even left with nothing but the natural resources available to them on whatever rock we drop them, they would return as a threat once again with even more malice than before.
I do not think "rewiring" them is a valid path either. That robs them of the very choice that all those others made. It would be forced on them. It is subjugation, not integration. Death would be preferable, in my opinion, as they would no longer be Sivv.
The Sivv were all but extinct. Their time has passed. I don't think reviving them is in their or out best interests. But I am loathe to exterminate so many lives out of hand. Keeping them in stasis seems like a futile effort, too, merely delaying their inevitable destruction or ours.
Dunk brushes an errant scale off the jacket of his custom-made one-of-a-kind couture designer Alphonse Inari suit. He rests a hand on the pommel of Ragnarok, his Apocalypse Devastation Blade, and looks at the assembled dignitaries.
I do not know the correct answer to disposing of two-and-a-half million lives. I'm just a humble Vesk trying to make his way in this crazy galaxy.
"It's a pretty bold move to ask five people who just spent the better part of who knows how long fighting the sivv this whole question. This is something for the politicians to figure out, not us," Hack-It says, irritation showing. "How often do you ask your army's soldiers this question? After we just saved the cheese for everyone in the solar system, maybe figure this one out yourselves? Because you aren't getting unbiased opinions here."
"You're no soldiers, you're literally the Saviors of the Pact Worlds. Have you seen the 'vids? They're calling you the Starstone Saviors."
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Dunk stands a little taller hearing that moniker.
Well, having experienced living as a Sivv, even artificially, for a time and learning of them as we battled through Ark Prime, I could not in good conscience unleash them on the galaxy. If awakened, I think all of their efforts would be directed towards reestablishing their Sivv Empire. They enslaved and brainwashed those they conquered.
As I said, it does not sit easy with me exterminating 2.5 million souls, but I believe the loss of life would far exceed that if the Sivv were revived. They were all but extinct until recently. I think they should be left so. If it comes to a vote, I would submit mine to their demise.
"It's a pretty bold move to ask five people who just spent the better part of who knows how long fighting the sivv this whole question. This is something for the politicians to figure out, not us," Hack-It says, irritation showing. "How often do you ask your army's soldiers this question? After we just saved the cheese for everyone in the solar system, maybe figure this one out yourselves? Because you aren't getting unbiased opinions here.""You're no soldiers, you're literally the Saviors of the Pact Worlds. Have you seen the 'vids? They're calling you the Starstone Saviors."
Janzi starts to excitedly bring up the vids, then hesitates a moment as he ponders the decision they face. He turns the comlink off again.
What if we mindwipe 'em all?
Booker lights a cigarette, thinking it over further. "True enough. But who's t'say that all this---" Booker waves his hands at the vast computing network that housed the sivv overmind, "---ain't just a 'culture' driven to dominance by Vheiransch and his rivals? Time to study, an' learn, about the sivv histories, more complete ones anyway, might allow us to distill an older sivv culture that is compatible with coexistence. I ain't gonna believe that the sivv weren't warped by their war with the kishalee. Also not gonna believe that their indoctrination programs are all that define 'em."
Here Booker gives a pointed look to the vesk. "After all, your kind an' my kind fought a war not long back. Yet here we stand, brother."
Janzi nods. Nature vs. nurture. A mindwipe gives them a clean slate to become what they'll become. Might be the same, but might not.
Attitude and approach are major factors to development. Like, we don't hate all ysoki, he adds, giving a nod to Gig. Just some. Or fewer than some.
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Indeed! Our peoples did battle and we reconciled, after a fashion. The difference is that we chose to do so. Those Sivv, Dunk waves back in a general outward direction. Those Sivv aren't part of an older Sivv culture compatible with coexistence. If revived, they'd likely do whatever is in their power to bring back their empire. That would be their choice. Reverting them to some bygone era of conformity would be to impose our values onto them for our benefit, which is not far off from what the Sivv did to those they conquered.
Booker shakes his head. "You're not giving 'em a choice. You're just assuming they're all gonna make the same choice, based on a small sample under conditions that don't exist anymore. We ain't met a single sivv yet now that Vheiransch's been wiped from the system. You know for sure they're all gonna be the same?"
He lights another cigarette and puts it to his lips, but takes it out again. "B'sides, teachin' somethin' to think for itself ain't the same thing as brainwashin' it to obey your values. We've got the tools to do either, but I'm only advocatin' one."
"Why not just interview each? Ask them if they're a murderous a!+@@!#, and kill them if they say yes. Going to feel any better about your conscience then?" Hack-It throws his hands up in exasperation. "Or give the the choice of die or mind wipe? That enough agency to suit your morality?"
Hack-It paces around, hands continuing to gesticulate annoyance. "This is stupid, and it doesn't matter. Whatever choice we make, some group of sanctimonious bastards are going to judge us for it. Pinning that decision on the Starstone Saviours is just a convenient way to be spared political backlash. But fine, if you want the choice to have come from us, so be it."
The ysoki mechanic stops. The next words come out with zero hesitation. "I say kill them all. That way it's over with, and there's no looming threat that'll bite future generations in the ass. Nobody else dies, nobody else has to make a decision. We own it, it's done, and we can move on."
Booker scowls at the ysoki. "Since when d'you care about 'future generations,' or anyone b'sides Hack-It? As always, you're seein' everything in the least charitable light. The choice ain't death or mindwipe. It's presentin' an choice to co-exist."
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Are you proposing that we revive them as they are and present to them the option of coexistence? Or, are you considering altering the mental disposition of an entire species such that they would consider coexistence? Those are two very different options.
I don't particularly care for either. Vheiransch didn't singlehandedly build that monstrosity that nearly destroyed this station and the millions of lives living on it. His Empire did, meaning all those Sivv in respose were complicit in its construction. Those aren't just random citizens who got lucky in the lottery. Those are the Empire's best choices for recreating the Empire in our time.
I'm with Hack-It. They had their time. Their tyrannical Empire was toppled. They should stay extinct.
"And for the record, I don't want to be talking about the sivv. But since you're making me hear about it, you're going to hear me talk." Hack-It glares at Booker. "And you're right that I don't care about future generations. Their problems are their own to figure out. But the council does care, or at least they're supposed to. So they should hear that."
"And if you think coexistence is such a great idea, maybe you should actually suggest a solution that would work. And then stick around and see it through. But you won't have to, because there isn't one. So stop acting all noble because you aren't going to fix this."
Fine, wipe 'em instead of mindwiping 'em, Janzi says. So, shoot Ark Prime into the sun?
Hack-It shrugs. "Probably some good salvage off Ark Prime. But once you get the good bits off it, sure. Any sun will do."
Booker rolls his eyes. "You're just starting wit' the assumption that anythin' I say won't work, Hack. As usual. Vheiransch wouldn'tta had those programmin' chambers on board if they weren't needed---and they were specific'lly designed for sivvs. Why you think that is?"
The old soldier draws a long puff. "We don't even know how many of them two-point-five mil of sivvs are soldiers. Maybe you're right, Dunk, an' they all are, but maybe not."
"How you planning to find out if they're all soldiers or not, Booker? Because I'm still not hearing how you plan to figure it all out. Only that you don't know."
"You've got your paws on the keyboard. Let's see what's in the system."
Hack-It punches a few commands into the console, running a query. He smirks when he sees the results. "Take a look for yourself. Soldiers, every last one of them. It's not a resettlement plan, it's an invasion force. Their plan for survival is subjugating the local populate of wherever they invade."
Hack-It relents, his tone softening. "Give it up man. Some folks you just can't save. And this lot doesn't want saving."
Janzi looks over Hack-It's shoulder and grimaces. Hate to admit it, but he's right, the lashunta says. Bred and trained for war. Not sure a mindwipe is gonna do more than postpone the inevitable rise of some Sivv megalomaniac.
He takes the camera from Munro and shuts it off. Might be another solution, but I'm not smart enough to figure it out. He turns to Gig. What do you think?
"Huh," Booker grunts in acknowledgement. He goes a long while without saying anything further, burning through an entire cigarette and lighting another. "Still worth giving 'em a choice, if y'ask me, painful or no. Wake 'em up, one at a time if we gotta, an' put the question."
After a moment he stands and stamps out his smoke. "Y'all seem of a mind on this, though. You wanna give yer rec, just don't say it's from me."
Hack-It chuckles. "Fine, we leave your name off the kill order."
To the council he says, "It's a bit of a discussion because being part of a ship's crew is complicated. But majority rules when it comes to getting things done, and the majority says you should send those hibernating sivvs into the nearest flaming star. The time of the Sivv Empire is over, and their return would lead to nothing good for the rest of us."
Hack-it quickly discovers that there's a fail-safe preventing the ol'pilot-into-a-star-maneuver.
Janzi arches an eyebrow. You're going to let some primitive, run-of-the-mill fail-safe program stop you?
"No. Of course not," Hack-It scoffs, setting to the task of disabling the failsafe.
Hack-it works his wonder, and the course is laid in. The mechanic is confident that the ship will stay in real space...
He just needs to hit the button.
"Goodbye, a%&*~#*s."
He presses the button with zero remorse.
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While Hack-it has no remorse, the decision weighs heavily on all. Once word gets out, debates rage across all of Known Space. Pundits and pedestrians alike flood the Infosphere for years after.
For those who think it was the wrong decision, the narrative eventually settles on "how are we any better?"
For those who think it was the right decision it's, "But at least we're here to debate."
While already famous, the events of the Sivv invasion turn your reputations black and white. No longer are you nuanced mortals, you're lessons and archetypes.
But now you can go anywhere, any time, with no restrictions. Every port has friends.... and enemies.
So heroes, what does the future hold?
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Dunk returns to the Veskarium, ready to soak up the accolades. He quickly takes a high ranking position within the military, rising to High Despot of VESK-3, where he rules and serves on the Council of Despots with distinction. Dunk is approached by several females and helps produce several clutches of proud warriors.
In an uncharacteristic move, Dunk retires from service, rather than serve until his death. He uses his celebrity to start a Cooking Battle Stadium vid show, where chefs from all over the Veskarium can come to compete against each other, until one challenger emerges to battle Dunk for the title of "Chef Supreme". The show is incredibly popular, lasting 15 seasons.
Dunk then spends several years traveling the Pact Worlds, in a quest for new cuisines and ingredients. It is during these travels that Dunk discovers a new species of snail. In his haste to prepare new dishes with them, he fails to properly clean one. Pieces of its shell fall into the dish. As he's taste testing, Dunk trips balls, reliving his battles on Ark Prime. In his mad scrambling, he tumbles off of his penthouse suite balcony, falling to his death.
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Janzi basks in the adulation that comes with saving the Pact Worlds, and seems equally as pleased by being a bad example parental units use to admonish their spawn. Generally, though, he ignores the philosophical debates about whether vaporizing an entire civilization was the Right Thing To Do, instead focusing on the Better Them Than Me side of the discussion.
After touring Near Space — twice — on speaking engagements both lucrative and wearisome, Janzi eventually meanders his way back to his home world of Castrovel, somehow finding himself ruler of the lashuntan city-state Qabarat — its former ruler Lady Morana Kesh vansihed as quickly as if she had been shot into the sun aboard an ancient warship. His rule appears to involve no power whatsoever, merely requiring attracting enough attention that no one wonders who's actually in charge.
This suits him.
Qabarat, meanwhile, remains steadfastly independent of the other corporate entities of Castrovel, as it did under Lady Morana Kesh.
Many years later, Janzi vanishes as quickly as though he, too, had been shot into the sun aboard an ancient warship. The citizens of Qabarat lament his passing as a declined nation-state would mourn the loss of any unelected, monarchical figurehead.
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Gig leaves the adventuring life and uses his experience to go back to performing on keyboard. He writes a new epic conceptual album called Breakthrough which he goes on tour with. He continues to look for the greatest capes that he can purchase so that for every concert he wears a different cape. He also seeks out the best technology and magic to create the most epic concert experience ever. It combines videos, laser lights, pyrotechnics, and of course, moving stages.
He doesn't miss fighting the Sivv or other nasty creatures, but he does miss the camaraderie he shared with his adventuring buddies. Along his galactic tours, he always makes an effort to seek out Hack, Janzi, Dunk, and Booker on whatever planet they may be living. He is always generous with his back stage passes and freely gives them out to his friends and any other friends they want to bring. Whenever he sees Booker, he tries to convince him to become head of security for his concerts.
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Hack-It is quick to take possession of his reward: a new ship that he christens the Moonlit Lady. That it's retrofitted Pegasus class Starfinder ship doesn't seem to bother the mechanic at all. With only a few words exchanged with the crew of the Maiden he leaves for parts unknown.
Of course, Hack-It has transferred a copy of Osteth for his new ship. It provides just enough complications for him to keep him on his toes. Not unlike raising a rebellious adopted teenager.
It takes a few more years, but he recruits several other like-minded ysoki ship captains to his cause. What that cause is is never quite clear, but with Hack-It's infamy as the "Man who pushed the Button" it doesn't take much. Plus they're able to make money. It's never clear how legal the whole operation is, but Hack-It does indeed become Admiral Hack-It. Which suits him just fine.
Somewhat late in life Hack-It meets Memory, a ysoki woman that steals his heart. There is, of course, a litter of children that, of course, are all girls. They're all big fans of Gig's music too, forcing Hack-It to attend more of his old shipmate's shows than he'd like. He complains mightily about this to Memory, who reminds him that "it's for the girls" while also calling him out when he's busted tapping his foot in time to the music.
He never misses an episode of Dunk's vid show, even trying his hand at cooking. None of it is ever edible. He calls the retired Vesk soldier now and then, and weeps for days when he learns of Dunk's passing.
Hack-It never, EVER, checks in on Booker or Janzi.
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Booker attends the Council's medal ceremony with great reluctance. Halfway through the second speech---and long before any medals are given out---he quietly slips off the stage. It's the last time most in the universe ever sees him.
With the others scattering to the winds, Booker takes the Sunrise Maiden for his own, and all but disappears from the publics of the Pact Worlds. The first several years in hiding take place mostly in an a cave nestled at the base of a remote canyon on Akiton. There, over the course of clandestine years, he painstakingly and methodically alters the Maiden' exterior profile, fuselage, registration, and even its name---making it all but impossible for anyone but its original crew to recognize the ship that brought down Ark Prime. While he dramatically reworks the ship's outward appearance, he leaves its interior mostly untouched: Gig's insane Stellar Degenerator X-705 keyboard machine, still functional but unplayed, is left to overwhelm the bunk that was once Hack-It's; he makes every effort, sneaking back into town at night on his motorcycle, to keep Dunk's spice rack well stocked; Munroe's viciously marked-up editing plans still litter Janzi's old table, still partially covered in aging peanut shells; even Hack-It's retrofitted escape pod nest still makes a mess of the first starboard bay. One might say that, though disguised, the ship remains invested with memory, and intentionally so.
Once the ship is unrecognizable but again spaceworthy, he takes up a lonely wandering among the stars. His goal, such as he has any, is to maintain a vigilance should Hack-It's surety prove wrong; in the deep reaches of the Vast, he meanders from isolation to isolation to poke and prod for any evidence that Ark Prime escaped its end at the core of a sun. But in many journeys he seeks only to be away from it all: to neither see nor be seen. At these times, Osteth is his only conversation partner, and they both settle comfortably into independent coexistences, often going months without needing to speak. Without needing to be told, the AI always helps Booker avoid getting anywhere near Hack-It's armada.
Whenever Gig gets particularly annoying with his incessant emails about hanging out, Booker humors his old friend, showing up mysteriously in the keyboardist's dressing room after a show. And while he always declines Gig's request to take over his security, the truth is that Booker has already been running it for years through a shell company.
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Alive, dead, or gone, the tales of the individual crew of the Sunrise Maiden never grow old.
Space is a dangerous place, and for some the danger is fatal. For others though, the next disaster is around the corner....
Each goes their separate ways. A few years later, when the very Drift itself breaks, it's a new crew of heroes who will have to save it all...