A report to the Republic by Magister Magna Jator:

There are rumors coming into the halls of the Republic of pilots performing ritual sacrifices of Glenn Tourists for the alien V'rix construct known as the EyeofGod. Most humans respond to this news with a sense of disgust -- ritual sacrifices onto a temple of an alien god?! But why would an alien leader, who clearly has nothing but contempt for humanity, even allow for a pilot to give a sacrificial offering? Because such an act validates their very way of being. For this war is more than a war for territory. This is a war of the soul.

V'rix apologists, who claim that the aliens were long on "peaceful" intent, point to the fall of our home world as poetic justice. It was Var, they say, who gave mission after mission to enter the Mondara Shear, to "slaughter innocent V'rix", and claim that our heroes of that same Mondara Shear are nothing more than butchers.

Some go so far as to say that the specific strike against Primus was but a means to silence Var -- a surgical strike. I say look only upon the ruins of our home world which still burns, burns like the fallen city of Carthage, and answer for yourselves who is right. To burn a world for revenge, to visit a city where the screams of our fallen and captured warriors are reported to reverberate like a dark symphony; is this justice?

But there is Justice and there is the War, and to know the foe is to know ourselves. The V'rix fight this battle not only through weapons of fire, smoke and ash, but across the battlefield of ideas and history. This observation is revealed through the very names the leaders of the V'rix have chosen for themselves. Take for example the newest leader discovered in the Gallina system: M3Q53ZT3.

Miquiztli is an Aztec word for Death. Though I am by no means an expert on things Aztec, I do remember reading that in their culture death and violence were accepted as part of the cycle of creation. Ritual sacrifices like that of the Glenn Tourist would represent a transformation of the pilot from a "worthless" human into one suitable to accept the rule of the same Ancients which the V'rix accept as akin to the gods of the Aztecs.

Thus, there is another level to the act of sacrifice that these pilots are undertaking, one that they themselves might not be fully aware of. That of the transformation of the soul. In killing the tourist, the pilot rejects their very connection to humanity, renounces their history, their very being. They have chosen to transform their Call Forward to a Call Backward. Backward to a history of death, to a pantheon of hostile gods who were likely some of the Ancients who continue their game of godhood to this very day.

Which is why it is not surprising that the Progen Republic and the V'rix are so hostile to one another. One seeks to become a reflection of the divine that is the birthright of all humans, while the V'rix seek only to reflect the glory of their Ancient gods. It is a question of Free Will versus obedience to a council of alien gods whose motives are unknown.

For my fellow Sabine, there is no need to remind you of our Order's goals. But for those of you, especially non-Progen genotypes, I pause to remind you that our Order which serves the Republic seeks to perfect the human genome. In seeking this perfection we become immortal, and in achieving this, we come that closer to touching the face of our creators. We become the reflection of God.

Each time a Progen dies, they sacrifice themselves to their belief in the Call Forward. Their belief that that their souls are indestructible. Our Republic is built upon the belief that each step we take and each sacrifice we make brings us closer to perfection. Closer to the full realization of the greatest gift of our creator: Free Will.

In a dark reflection, the Call Backward of the V'rix is a dark whisper of a failed branch of history. They are asking our brave pilots to commit murder to prove their acceptance of V'rix belief structure. But like any sacrifice upon a dark altar, its true "gift" is nothing more than lies. It is walking a dark spiral at whose heart is not knowledge, not immortality, but servitude.

It is the death of the human soul. It is the death of Free Will.

How can there ever be peace between the Republic and these aliens when we exist as polar opposites. How can we not fight?

This is a war we cannot afford to loose. We must fight, we must win and the aliens must be utterly swept aside. The fate of the Republic rests in the balance.

More than that, at the steps of this dark altar lies the fate of man.

Choose carefully brave pilots.

Long Live the Republic!