As I sat in my quarters, fresh from a victorious battle, I thought that I could have done better. Then my thoughts turned to how many times I had died during that battle. It confused me. I have "died" many times in my endeavors. Yet here I sit, with memories of every second I have fought. There is one thing I do not remember, however, and that is how I came into being. I was given conciousness not by a mother, but by a machine. I am not who I am. Whose body is this? The one where I "reside", as if it were just another living quarters? Did it belong to somebody? I pondered these questions, the meaning of this treasonous thought eluding me. Then, I realized that the very same people who we were warring against went through the very same process.

Being a soldier for so long, you never really see someone's face. It makes me question of the humanity of it all. Are we even human anymore? We are not "mindless", that has been proven through our ever-shifting conciousness. But, we are "bodyless". We will eventually lose this body. Were we to lay down our arms and refuse to fight, we would be terminated. Have you ever thought how many times your enemies have died? And how, even though you killing them wins you valor, there is a fresh clone there to replace them?

Our societies and cultures are different. Our beliefs are different. Our style and our tactics are different. But our method of waging war? All too familiar. It made me think: In regards to our enemies, we justify our actions through whatever belief system our culture is "supposed" to stand for. But when it comes to the actual fighting...

Are we really any better?

As I sat in my quarters, fresh from a victorious battle, I thought that I could have done better. Then my thoughts turned to how many times I had died during that battle. It confused me. I have "died" many times in my endeavors. Yet here I sit, with memories of every second I have fought. There is one thing I do not remember, however, and that is how I came into being. I was given conciousness not by a mother, but by a machine. I am not who I am. Whose body is this? The one where I "reside", as if it were just another living quarters? Did it belong to somebody? I pondered these questions, the meaning of this treasonous thought eluding me. Then, I realized that the very same people who we were warring against went through the very same process.

Being a soldier for so long, you never really see someone's face. It makes me question of the humanity of it all. Are we even human anymore? We are not "mindless", that has been proven through our ever-shifting conciousness. But, we are "bodyless". We will eventually lose this body. Were we to lay down our arms and refuse to fight, we would be terminated. Have you ever thought how many times your enemies have died? And how, even though you killing them wins you valor, there is a fresh clone there to replace them?

Our societies and cultures are different. Our beliefs are different. Our style and our tactics are different. But our method of waging war? All too familiar. It made me think: In regards to our enemies, we justify our actions through whatever belief system our culture is "supposed" to stand for. But when it comes to the actual fighting...

Are we really any better?

Are we really any better?

Have you ever stopped to think that the original version of you is being held in a specialized container somewhere? The real you. The one that holds the scars that chronicles your life before the implants. Think about that. If all else fails, if we are Given the choice of putting down our weapons and leading a better life. Do we have something like ourselves to go back to?

Respectfully, and speaking only for myself, soldier, the answer is "no." The body of my previous self cut her own throat to activate the implant and transfer me for the first time. Perhaps others had other ways of bringing about activation, but, in my own experience, there was no way to proceed other than to accept death, as I have accepted it many times since.

It was possibly the hardest single thing I have ever had to do. It put a lot of things into perspective.

Respectfully, and speaking only for myself, soldier, the answer is "no." The body of my previous self cut her own throat to activate the implant and transfer me for the first time. Perhaps others had other ways of bringing about activation, but, in my own experience, there was no way to proceed other than to accept death, as I have accepted it many times since.

It was possibly the hardest single thing I have ever had to do. It put a lot of things into perspective.