Homestar Saga

Chapter 90: The Homestar

"Is this really happening?" Yvian's heart pounded. Her breath came faster. Her chest was tight. Hope and excitement and fear and joy all swirled together, threatening to burst. "Are we really doing this?"

"We are," Mims assured her. He lounged beside her, a beer in his hand. The human was usually a stickler for keeping food in the kitchen, but today was a special day. "I think it's finally time."

Yvian looked around, taking in the sights. She wanted to keep this moment, to remember it for always. She took in the familiar layout of the Random Encounter's bridge. Four consoles, three chairs. A table with a holodisplay. City 43 could be seen rising around them through the viewports. Lissa had scooted her chair next to the Captain's and nestled her head on his shoulder. Kilroy stood nearby, eyes emitting a cheery yellow glow.

"I still can't believe it," Yvian breathed. "We've been through so much. Almost died so many times." Yvian had given up everything for this moment. Suffered so much pain. She'd lost her family. Her people. She'd become a killer and an outcast. Everything she'd ever done, every missed opportunity, every lonely night knowing she would live and die without ever experiencing true love. All of it. All for this. Her eyes watered. She choked back a sob.

The last six months had been a flurry of activity. The ships of the Freedom Republic had been repaired and transferred to New Pixa sector, save for a small fleet of five hundred to protect the civilians they'd left behind. Yvian hadn't kept track of how they were doing. Just because the people hadn't been directly involved in piracy didn't mean they didn't support it, and she couldn't muster a lot of sympathy for a group that tried to form a nation on the backs of slaves.

The unimplanted slaves had been released piecemeal back into the Confederation. The Peacekeepers had helpfully manufactured clothes and wrist consoles, and each victim was dropped off at the station of their choice with a working voidsuit and a chit for twenty five thousand credits. Mims had grumbled at the expense, but he'd also been very happy that he didn't have to meet or explain things to anyone himself. Yvian and Lissa had taken care of it, with Kilroy and his fellow units providing security and support.

Some of the slaves had been pixens. Lissa had asked them to quietly spread the word that the Homestar had been found.

The implanted slaves had been handed over to the Oluken. No way had yet been found to remove the implants safely, but Yvian had been assured they were working on it.

With the threat of Reba and the Freedom Republic removed, Mims had opened a floodgate of ships and materials for the Peacekeeper units to make use of. The downed units on planet Pixa had been repaired, and the machines had expanded the sector's infrastructure at an explosive rate. The asteroid fields were littered with mines. Hundreds of stations manufactured goods. The Peacekeepers had built things Yvian had never thought possible. Fabrication stations that could alter the molecular structure of material. Drones with beam weapons that were only half the size of the Random Encounter. Automated farms that could produce a full crop every six days, and vats that grew slabs of meat. Kilroy had explained that Exodus had given them schematics detailing a large amount of Xill technology. They were even building a new shipyard, and designing ships that could rival those of the Federation.

"Believe it, Sis," Lissa's proud assertion snapped Yvian back to reality. She nestled deeper into the Captain's shoulder. "This is what we've been working for."

"New Pixa sector now has sufficient defenses and manufacturing capability to support up to two hundred million meatbags," Kilroy reported. "Defense fleets are in place and manned by Peacekeeper units. Planet Pixa is prepared for habitation."

Kilroy was still something of a mystery. All the Peacekeepers were. Yvian had tried her best to get to know the machine as they worked together, but he rarely parted with personal information. He enjoyed snarky banter, and had showed impressive insight in some of their conversations, but he seemed resistant to the idea of close personal connections. Yvian suspected he was afraid to get close. He might have been resigned to the idea that he would become non-standard, but it was still a terrifying prospect, and he was doing everything in his power to stave it off as long as he could.