CEV:Terminals/Boarding Action

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Erudition Log / Tenth Cycle, Fourth Unit
Inward Scrutiny codified aboard Triumph of Tolerance by the hand of the Inquisitive Technologist Minister of Harmony

Blessed are the ways in which we walk. Aimed towards the bright sun of progress, with the shadow of complacency at our back and out of view. Our endeavour towards perfection is a great journey all its own, and may we never lose our way from its Path.

These are words I must recite at the dawn of each passing cycle, that I might not find myself encumbered by piety of policy alone.

There is a seed of fervor planted deep within my heart, tended well by the soul of my soul. I will nurture it until it bears the fruit I seek—sweet flesh that will redefine our understanding of the divine.

There is much we were made for, and much we can make of ourselves. But there is also that which we can make of others. It is of paramount importance that we vouchsafe[sic] our ability to maintain order—to stride forward with command and confidence, that our kind might illuminate the path of those to follow.

I have spent much time in the texts of the ancient ways, enlightened by what some might call apocrypha. I devour every stroke, every syllable—each page turning from intimation to revelation to invitation.

Our kind was once masters of the code of life—geneweavers whose beauty knew no bounds, and whose abilities were carried by their ambitions. We arranged the proteins and structures of the cell like dipping our quills in an ever-flowing well of ink, writing new forms upon the page as poetry. Hearts beat at our behest, muscles danced at our desire, and it must be this way again.

The old ways must be made new, to make a now that lives eternal. When I spoke with the High Prophet of Truth to make blessed our commissioning, I wished for my wonder to be woven with wisdom. But I do not know if the Hierarchs hear me. Were I to sit in their place, I would sew tightly our empire with the thread of influence, My work has the possibility to give us greater control than we have ever known before. I must prove its worth—my worth.

We are on the precipice of victory against those we trample underfoot, but even our enemies can be useful. Squeezed and juiced that their pulp might serve our whim and way.

Our victory at Fergea will make an ideal place to conduct my next tests. I have new ideas need to put through their appropriate paces. New hypotheses to turn from theory to law. The universe begs to be commanded—longs for the opportunity to serve a greater voice.