A scant dozen or two minutes prior, a shuttle launches from the Premo Aeternus Quinque.

“So, we’re doing this, huh?”

A girl with pink hair sits back to the wall, an overhead padded bar pinning her to her seat. There couldn’t be more than three dozen in the entire shuttle, and not room for more than five dozen.  And so, much like the fabled amusement park rides of old, the ‘turncoats’ of the Aeternus strapped in and awaited their destiny.

Most Terran ships and colonies found the arrival of the Affini to be a surprise. This was, of course, largely due to poverty and the aggressive adrenaline-fueled misadventure of Free Terran rebels. If your communication satellites actually functioned, then the Affini messages of peace and impending domestication got through just fine.

“Can’t turn back now, can we, Jess? At least we’re not like the rebels, yeah? Saying ‘hey, maybe they’re not so bad’ would have gotten us a one way trip out an airlock if we did it on any other ship.” Jess couldn’t even remember this one’s name. He was a good fellow, though. Hopefully he’d be alright. Hopefully they’d all be alright. 

The passengers on the Premo Aeternus Quinque had had almost two months to prepare for their specific section of space to be ‘overgrown’, or ‘leaf-and-vined’, or ‘lost to the hellweeds’, whichever you liked to call it. Which satellites went down? Which networks got replaced by the ‘Overnet’? It was simple. It was straightforward. Calculable. 

“Sort of nice. Though...I was expecting it just to be staff on this ship. Why’s Michie coming?” Jess tilts her head. “Hey! Michie! Why are you on here anyway? Don’t you have Imminent Eschaton Enterprises to manage?”

‘Michie’ giggles. Her strawberry blonde curls shake as she sighs, the woman looking down. “I’ve had a good run, girls, boys, and inbetween toys, but the writing’s on the wall. My last holdings just got leaf-and-vined a month ago. I can’t deal with this pressure of waiting for the Dusk to reach us anymore. Either the Affini are telling the truth, and things are going to be fine, or we’re going off to get eaten and thrown in a mine. Simultaneously. I just can’t enjoy the ship with that dangling over my head. At least, this way, my partners might get an extra bit of time before the end.”

There are some nods. “At least it’s a clean shuttle, right? My last job was on a Navy cruiser where the oil and grime practically caked everything. I’m not actually sure a mine would be worse than that? -- Michie, you can’t get eaten -and- thrown in a mine at the same time.”

“Have you considered the possibility of giant Affini with internal stomach-mines?”

“Wait, why have--what? What kind of mental image is that? When did you find time to have that mental image?”

There is an interrupting set of pleasant chiming noises. 

“If I can have your attention please,” The PA system says. “This is the captain of the Premo Aeternus Quinque’s Final Tender, and we’ll be making bold speeches within domestication range within ten minutes, so I hope everyone’s satisfied with their life choices. I have confirmation that the Quinque will be activating Pirate Protocol shortly, so sit tight.” 

“What IS the Pirate Protocol anyway?” Jess asks, looking around. “I’ve heard mention of it, but... they’re not going to attack, are they?”

“Oh! Oh, goodness, right, Jess, you just started working around here.” Michie says. “No, the Premo Aeternus is unarmed. It was part of the agreement with the Terran Cosmic Navy, so that nobody would threaten to break off from the Accord. It’s--oh, did--did any of the engineers come with us? I don’t actually understand how it works. I understand spreadsheets and buying and selling goods across planets, not how technology works.”

“Um, uh... I actually used to work with the engineer who designed the whole system,” A new voice says. She’s obscured by some manner of fluffy faux-feather headdress, designed to make her look like some cuddly vermilion bird. The rest of her body is completely covered by similar material.  “So, building the Quinque would have taken -way- longer if we’d had to actually build it this far out, and it’s way too big to actually jump drive. That’s why it’s five different ships--they’re actually designed to break apart on almost a whim. They push apart, drift a little, fire the engines, and then they just jump and re-dock together at the new location. Originally, we would have been able to go all kinds of places around the galaxy like that.” The faux-fowl waves her baggy sleeves in the air.

“..But, you know, the Affini happened, and the resources just weren’t there, even for us. Had to fight the war, right?” She coos sadly. “And so began the Dusk of Humanity, as the Proprietress says.”

There is a quiet moment. “I’m going to miss her,” Jess says. “.. But she’s not wrong, is she?”

The glass screen between the passengers lights up, showing a display of the Quinque as the ships fire--spreading apart like a blooming flower. 

“Even if the Affini are benevolent, ‘humanity’ as a force is over. Whatever it was we might have accomplished one day on our own, whatever gifts we might have one day brought to the universe..”

The Affini ship resolves on the screen. It dwarfs the Quinque. Unthinkable, once. A single separate beam of light--an escape pod? Did someone get cold feet?-- jets out from one of the ships.

“They’re gone now. Fading embers.” Jess says. “And I hope that’s not too much of a loss, in the end. I hope we all don’t regret that--”

And then, a moment later, four ships appear on the screen...

“Wait. Why’s it back? Where did the fifth ship go-- did the Affini do this? No. No, that’s not--”

And then collapse. 

“What?! What’s happening! Is this the pirate protocol?”

The PA system lights up. “This is your captain speaking, something has clearly malfunctioned with the Pirate Protocol. The Quinque was not supposed to return. Nobody is responding to hails, repeat, nobody is responding to hails. Sit tight while I try to--”

There is a burst of static. “Cuties? Are you all okay on that little ship?” The voice is soothing. Mesmerizing. And, in this moment, exactly what three dozen people on the tender need. “We’ll be picking you all up in a moment. We’re really hoping you can explain what just happened. This is very upsetting, isn’t it?”

The gas starts to filter in, pink, somehow almost sparkling in the light.

Nobody can be bothered to care about it, as they descend into comfortable oblivion.