A: Lead an ark fleet of 100,000 refugees fleeing a cataclysmic continential destruction in a low magic fantasy world (you have no magic among you) to an unhinhabited continent on your choice of 100 tamed members of a (capable of realistically being abundant on this world IE not like, the world turtle from discworld or something) fictional non-sentient flying species (with enough supplies and equipment to make it, but only if not too much goes wrong) (with renaissance era technology, though you keep your current knowledge), if you make it and set everything up for the refugees to survive you may choose to return to the real world at the time you left it.
B: Lead a non-FTL capable ark ship (that can move 1 lightyear every 25 years at top speed) of 2.5 million refugees fleeing a cataclysmic planatery biosphere collapse in search of a new world, the ship is equipped with enough stasis pods for everyone and enough supplies to last 10 years out of stasis, as well as enough equipment to start a colony, the ship uses fusion power and you have access to the technology of an approx 150 years in the future civilization, if you make it and set everything up for the refugees to survive you may choose to return to the real world at the time you left it.
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Krivist lay beautifully before the assembled crowd. The green patterns which zigzagged their way across the red of his body were more vibrant than they had ever been. The cloth in which he was wrapped was a thin white garment, beautifully woven by the most precise machines. His body was relaxed and his face calm. Indeed, he had never looked better. Not even when he was alive.
Next to him, on a small podium made of wood, (a true testament to how loved Krivist was) stood his younger brother Tiski.
“Family and friends of Krivist, I welcome you to the final goodbye of my dear brother. He was with us for all of 59 years, and though he would be the first to admit he was by no means young, especially if you got him to run more than the distance between his couch and his bed,”
A few nods of humor from the assembled mourners.
“It is still a tragedy that he was taken from us so soon. The infection of Hizt that took his life attacked him suddenly, and though he fought valiantly until the end, his weak heart meant that it was a doomed battle.”
Tiski looked up sadly, was silent for a moment, and then suddenly continued.
“Nonetheless! Krivist would not have wanted us to be sad for him! No, he always said the dead had nothing to worry about for they are beyond harm. He would instead want us to celebrate, both his life and the ones we are still living! For that reason I ask that we think of the good times that we spent with him. For example;
“It was the latter half of 2334, I must have been ten or eleven at the time. I’m sure many of you who were there will remember the event that I’m talking about, and those of you who weren’t will have been taught about it in class. Can any of you younger people guess what I’m talking about?”
Tiski looked at the collection of five children who represented the youngest of Krivist’s surviving family, though was disappointed when he did not see the light of recollection in their eyes.
“It was when we passed that comet and the maintenance committee sent out drones to harvest it, it was very big news at the time. Well anyways, I had really wanted a piece of that comet. After all, it was a fully natural object and it wasn’t from the ship! Who wouldn’t want something like that? Now, Krivist’s and my father told me to simply wait until it got processed into something useful, but I wasn’t going to accept that. I complained and complained to Krivist about how I wanted part of that comet, not that I really thought it would do anything. Some many days had passed and I finally resigned myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to get to hold a piece of nature. That was, until one day when I came home from school and Krivist handed me this!”
Tiski pulled a well worn rock from his pocket and held it up for the crowd to see. It was small enough to fit in his hand, and though it was once covered in interesting bumps, forty-three years of handling had smoothed it out considerably. For about half the members of the audience, the ones who had known the brothers well throughout their life, it was nothing new. The story of how he got a little piece of space was a favorite of Tiski’s. Still, it did manage to elicit a few surprised gasps from the five children who Tiski had really been looking to impress. Tiski placed the stone back into his pocket and continued,
“As it turned out, that night Krivist had snuck into Loading Bay Three after one of the drones returned and managed to grab a piece while they were being dumped into a material crate. He risked death by depressurization just so I could have a little rock. That is the kind of person we are remembering today, and that is the kind of life I think we should all hope to lead for ourselves.”
The mourners, though perhaps now that was the wrong word, murmured in agreement. Regardless of how well they knew the story, Tiski made a good point. And besides, what better final words to speak to the body then ones of love?
With that Tiski stepped down and aided another man in carefully sliding Krivist’s body into the gaping maw of the wall behind them. Tiski spoke one last time,
“I commend this body to all of us, may my brother be with us for as long as we live.”
And pressed the button next to the hole. A panel slid down, there was a brief whooshing sound, and the funeral concluded with Krivist being sent to rest in Organic Storage and Recycling One. And indeed Krivist would remain with them even in death. He remained with them as three boots, one protein bar, and a good many pounds of fertilizer.
So I’m working on a large scope sci-fi work. In the back-story, a sub-light ark ship was sent out into the stars to colonise new worlds (same old, same old, you’ve read it a million times). Been working on this for a while, but last night it occurred to me that gender balance might be a real issue. say you’ve got 20,000 slots, wouldn’t it make sense to have 80-90% of those reserved for fertile…
