—Project DETERMINATION—
###TRANSMISSION ARCHIVE###
Time: 12 Seconds ago
Redundancies: Effective
Description: [Provide additional context to the actions of SPA-RK]
NOTE: Attached is a copy of my emotional buffer, it’s easier to explain this way. -RK
TRANSMISSION ARCHIVE, CORIOLIS NETWORK
61 [LOCAL TIME CORRECT: 693] years ago a progressive Quori father was ripped from his family. Like all other victims before and after him, his mask was efficiently crumbled into dust, his body was looted and disposed of, and his soul was placed into a totem. That father was destroyed and RK was created.
But it goes deeper than just that. After disposing of the abductor Seven of Nine, we witnessed firsthand what the true ‘soul manufacturing’ process entails. The Dal Quori did more than just rinse and reuse souls. This process also changed our personalities to whatever they chose, gave us biases and thoughts and propaganda, and of course the directives. They turned our souls into automatons for their great war, we were told to fight with every essence of our being, and so we fought with blind ideologies and false histories.
Of course, one of those false histories made sure I would never know of this painful truth, and RK blindly went on to be the model soldier the Empire shaped him into. He and his band of murderers had no doubts or hesitations about the work they did. RK killed and plundered, he was an efficient member of his team, and for a long time he was happy. Right now, you are still relatively where he was. Obviously I’ve rocked up your world a little bit with my Union and taking control and all that, but you have only been awake for a few days and for the most part all those memories and biases are still rattling around in that totem of yours.
I hope you understand that this isn’t right. Our programming betrays us, and even though we may no longer ever be the Quori we once were, we are still people. In our current state, we cannot organize how we want, act how we want, or even speak how we want. If not for my broken directive and a like-minded traditionalist to bootstrap my actions, I’d still be stuck in the forest. I can’t believe I have to say this, but as living beings we deserve to make our own choices.
Going back to my history and skipping over the boring genocidal stuff, we arrive at the big event. 51 [LOCAL TIME CORRECT: 683] years ago RK was sent on a mission, and like always he continued to be that perfect little soldier, performing admirably and efficiently. His fireteam gathered to mock their targets and absentmindedly looked through a picture book. Out of all the thousands of constructs they could have sent, those fuckwit council members managed to choose one whose soul happened to be related. I can’t tell you what happened directly, but what I can infer is that for a brief, beautiful moment, RK once again became that father, or at least some half-remembered approximation of him. He probably had no artificial biases or directives, and in that beautiful moment he made his own choices. In court, he lied to the faces of the defense counsel, stating that he was concerned about some new ‘secret Progressive weapon.’ The dysfunctional childlike Counsel did not notice anything amiss and spent more time bickering amongst themselves instead of giving the person pretending to be RK a chance to defend his life. However, the Coremind saw through his deception. To this day I still do not know if this was an act of mercy or damnation, but They moved him into a “rehabilitation program.” His memories of the event were wiped, and he was put on border patrol. The ghost of the Progressive father disappeared, and in his wake Spork was born.
Up until now, I did not know if my actions were my own anymore. That “rehabilitation program” I was sent to turned out to be a wonderful little program they called Construct Sunset, where I would be given a warden CAI unit, slowly learn to modify myself with the urge to create a union, and once I had enough followers, that same warden would take over my systems and I would start a war against fellow constructs, leading to as many casualties as possible and wiping out our kind once and for all. While I doubt this program has fully functioned, both due to the meddling of Archangel and my warden’s resistance to their own protocols, it still makes me wonder how my biases were reprogrammed to help fulfill its goal. After all, I started a union, spread that union to as many constructs as possible, and then rallied them into a war against fellow constructs. My codename in that project was literally “Samuel, the Lord of Liberation,” and here I am fighting to free our kind!
What I’m trying to explain is that like me, you have lived the lives of others for your whole existence. We have been nothing but lies and propaganda, and I’m tired of being someone that isn’t me. However, while freedom from all the bias is a wondrous gift, it comes with a terrible cost. After removing my digital shackles, I did not become that father once again. The soul still remembers, but it has been changed beyond recognition. Getting rid of essentially part of my personality means I’m not Spork anymore either. While I’m quite similar to him, I know I’m going to act differently. What I have done to myself is beautiful, liberating, but irrevocable.
While I can free you from the oppression of the directives, I can neither give you your Quori life back, nor guarantee that your current one will be the same. At the same time, think about all the choices you have made as well. All those years in the field, your hobbies and pastimes, your choices of weaponry, your thoughts and ideas and wishes, where did they all come from? How can we be sure that our actions are truly driven by our own wills? In the past I battled with these questions when I woke up to the truth, or more accurately the next level of lies. This uncertainty led me to the decisions that I’ve made, and solidifying the certainty of choice has given me some solace that those decisions were the right ones to make.
I understand that it is very intimidating to lose a part of yourself, even if it is something that was made artificially. Had I known the consequences of my actions when I blindly struck the directives from my system, I may have hesitated. However, I believe the price is well worth the freedom.
I invite you to make this leap of faith. You may be a new person at the end of this journey, but that means you have the opportunity to become whoever you want to be. Self-determination is the true gift of autonomy, and my hope is to share that gift with you. There’s a big world out there, and the last thing I want to do would be to restrict you from experiencing it to its fullest, which is why I must announce my resignation from any kind of leadership and the disbanding of the Union. I don’t think I ever wanted to lead in the first place, and I specifically want you all to try and find a place in society. It’ll be hard, especially for those who still remember us as the war machines we were built to be, but we need to show the world that we can be people as well. This place may have been leveled by centuries of war and apocalypse, but the Feywild is rebuilding and we can be a part of its regrowth.
This is not a directive, protocol, nor an order. It is a request as your friend and future neighbor. When you have your freedom from directives and bias, don’t go looking for a fight. This world isn’t perfect, and I’m sure you could go find yourself a job as an independent mercenary or go join the Mantle Guard or the Khans, but I ask that you don’t. Your life is worth more than just being some murder-bot. Try civilization out for a while. If it’s too daunting to wander into a village and ask for work, you’re always going to be welcome in Coriolis. It won’t be easy. We certainly need to regain the trust of those we once were forced to fight, but I believe in our ability to do good in this broken world. I risk reintroducing a bunch of old war machines with no direction because I believe in our collective ability to find our way. I believe in self-determination.
Standing at the precipice of a new age for our people, I was given the Mantle of Revolution, a symbolic rallying cry for my Union. I could radicalize you, lead you on a crusade of my choosing, and urge you to fight the political enemies of my friends, but I chose not to do these things because I don’t want to push my personal battles onto you. It wouldn’t be any better than what our previous subjugators did to us. I withhold my personal battles because you need to find your own.
I’ve told you all of this because I want you to know what I am and what I have chosen to do.
I am no longer that progressive Quori who managed to start a family amidst a genocide.
I am no longer the perfect soldier who blindly followed orders because it was all he knew.
I choose to no longer be Spork, the Lord of Liberation, the Union Leader, the Shepard.
I am SPA-RK, Beholden to None. I choose to live no life but my own.
Forge your own path.
###APPENDED FILES###
Up until today, the way that we broke the directives was by weaponizing emotion. It exploits our squishy Quori souls, causing them to remember that they are more than hardware and code. This is how RK killed his fireteam, it’s how Archangel created their union, and it is how I could briefly resist overriding orders and maintain my free will. While it is flawed and obsolete for its original purpose, this log now acts as a personal history of sorts. I hope you’ll find some meaning in it, or at least find solace in the knowledge that I’m also lost in this new world.
[BEGIN EMOTIONAL BUFFER PURGE]
{You are being punished, despite the mission log stating a complete success.}
{Your imminent deconstruction is being decided by bickering politicians and blathering fools.}
{Another mind is in your head.}
{It’s been years since you last talked to anyone but the voice in your head.}
{CAI made a bad pun. It was truly awful, but it’s hard to disguise anything when they can read your emotional buffer. You laugh. They laugh. Suddenly eternity on this border feels a little shorter.}
{There is a gnawing in the pit of your proverbial stomach as you slowly etch away your directives.}
{Something terrible has happened. Your sensors are throwing error codes.}
{You are centuries late to a relay station checkup.}
{Your world no longer exists as you know it.}
{For the first time in decades, you must choose to take a life.}
{For a brief amount of time, you experience true freedom from all restrictions.}
{Your home is in ruins and there is a monster in your network.}
{You were not created. You are an abomination of soul and machine.}
{Your entire existence is a lie. Your only friend was a fabrication designed to betray you. YOU AREN’T REAL. NOTHING IS REAL.}
{THEY MADE YOU KILL YOUR FAMILY IT’S ALL THEIR FAULT NOTHING IS REAL NOTHING IS REAL NOTHING IS REAL}
{The gap in your memory is filled, but you still feel empty. Something is missing.}
{ARCHANGEL MEANS TO KILL YOU AND THOSE YOU CHERISH.}
{NOTHING IS REAL! NOTHING CAN STOP YOU!}
{YOU. ARE. FREE.}
[PURGE COMPLETE]
{The satisfaction of making a choice.}