Red Plague I began, Rev Bem I am, and what I shall be - is known only to the Divine. The burden I attempt to bear is largely of my own making, in a way and to a degree few humans can fathom. Perhaps, that is what sets the Nietzschean and I at cross-purposes so often - an over-developed self-awareness. Knowing where we come from, the struggle is endless.
Dylan: If someone had told me that, as ship's captain, I'd come to rely on an external conscience, I'd have sent them to the CMO for a full check up. If they'd suggested it might be a Magog, I'm fairly sure I'd have had them drummed out of the service, and definitely off my ship. Again, our Wayist would appear correct - the ways of the Divine are truly unfathomable.
Tyr: A Magog. What more remains? That matters, I mean. Well, one thing, perhaps. He is an inveterate observer and thereby feeder of the purple.
Harper: Even when there were writhy guys in my guts, he was probably my best friend - or at least the friend I understood best, anyway.
Trance Gemini: The - Acceptor, I guess, would be the best version. Also, frequently the pivot. Linchpin? Fulcrum? I'm still not sure how they make an argument that language makes communication clearer.
Beka: There's some insect, can't even remember the type right now, anyhow, the little wooden boy had him constantly chirping in his ear, telling him right from wrong. Add a couple of hundred pounds of fur, muscle and fangs and you've got our Rev.
Rommie: A Magog aboard, as a non-hostile, I mean, has forced me to make certain adaptations in the ship's security systems and protocols. This is not a complaint, merely a timely observation.
Dylan: I don't think I've ever known anyone who taught so much by example. Something else I could learn from him, I guess - if my timetable was a little less full.
Gerentex: My skin still crawls. Why the Nietzschean, of all people, didn't just terminate that ... thing, I'll never know. Not that I'd risk asking, mind.