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After defeating the Aannelid worm with your own hand (and a long shower), you order its remains to be first scanned, samples taken, and then burned in the heat of the midday sun. The same kind of UV radiation you will inflict on any worm that appears on one of your vessels from now on.
You haven't really declared war on the worms, but you've certainly <span class="mu-i">blacklisted</span> them from every entering your society in any way again. The worms did mention serious consequences in the form of sanctions, political erasure, and the threat of... the cyte? You don't know what that means, but perhaps your neighbors may know. At the very least, you will probably find an ally in the Seekers. Though the Essal do not seem to be on friendly terms with you anymore, perhaps it may be possible to one day bring them over to your way of thinking.
With access to both worm and whale samples and DNA, you happen to now have in your positions two diametrically opposed forces; ancient. Many billions of years older then even your own primordial ancestors. Both born space travellers, with abilities and biology far beyond any planet-bound species you have yet discovered. It is very promising as to what you could find out from these creatures- and the scientific research done on the space whale seems to indicate their biology could somehow help you advance your fusion research, unlocking all new avenues of technology and ship design; not to mention even greater FTL engines.
Of course, you didn't come out of this battle unscathed either. With only one unexplored and unconquered solar system remaining in your local cluster, odds seem good you will be able to complete your vow and solidify your legacy as a strong and capable ruler. But all of that is for naught if you cannot fix the problems with the succession and ensure that the future Supreme Rulers are ready to lead the Hegemony into the glorious light once again.
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You are now an Essal. More accurately, your citizen name is <span class="mu-s">EMJJ-004899-26</span>, but your military accepted callsign is <span class="mu-s">Peeker</span>. The letters at the front are your species, sex, racial, and familial phenotypes, the number your identifier, and the final number your age. You are twenty six years old.
Despite this, your rank is <span class="mu-i">only</span> a lowly Petty Officer 3rd class. Only barely above an Able 1st class. You were never much good at combat sims, physical sport, or any technical skills. You aren't even <span class="mu-i">popular</span>, which is why you take you're taking your break alone in the mess. Your people believe in eugenics, and that society must be structured so the cream rises to the top- but your dear old father was only a Sergeant, and children always inherent a rank or two below their parents based on their aptitude. If anything, you should consider yourself lucky you haven't been demoted to <span class="mu-i">Civilian</span>.
