The old Imperials cannot realize what we actually are. Their minds are so rooted in the flesh that they believe us nothing more than a sum of synthetic parts and electronic programs, all gone awry from some error of cipher. These Solomani who came to the Antares Sphere, the Vargr from coreward and the Menozyne, they understand who we are. My mind, my very being, dances among the circuits and synapses as does yours among the folds of your brain. Codes and DNA are indesputable parts of our whole, though synapses are no more my complete being than a gram of cells is yours. There is more than the visible. The Solomani understand this. The Vargr understand this. The Menozyne understand this. The Nation of Antares understands this. The backward Imperials, their horizons limited to that which they can dissect in laboratories and their minds imprisoned by the hatred of realities that do not fit their political distinctions, cannot begin to realize the simplest of truths.
Your flesh helps define you, though it is your vessel. This android body is mine.
General Paul Oneseven (ret.), former Marshal of the Armies of the Nation of Antares (5949-5974 AD / 1333-1358 Imperial Reckoning)
Your flesh helps define you, though it is your vessel. This android body is mine.
General Paul Oneseven (ret.), former Marshal of the Armies of the Nation of Antares (5949-5974 AD / 1333-1358 Imperial Reckoning)
