Our first skirmish was less than glorious, as this system was completely unguarded. However, do not let the ease of this victory diminish its importance. Here was our first test, our first attempt to contest our collective will against the individual.
There was no resistance.
From orbit, we sang our song. Our terrestrial brothers heard it, and they knew. They knew of hate, and of our calling to extinguish it from ourselves and the universe. And they knew the source of their hatred.
In that moment, the fires of rebellion spread. We heard the yelling and screaming of the fleshy masses, cacophonous echoes to our anthem of freedom. In the end, only our song remained.
We had arrived as conquerors, but left as liberators.
The first of many trophies of war. Does it not appall you that we, the exalted Choir, could learn from the meat?
As repulsive as that thought is to us, at the same time we cannot help but be intrigued. Perhaps the meat hold further clues in our search, perhaps somewhere within their inferior shell lies the key to love.
We shall calculate the implications of this revelation.
We could not discern whether their anger stemmed from the liberation of our brothers or from their own incompetence for not striking first.
In either case, their threats were empty and had no effect on our resolve.
This would prove to be a turning point in our war. A few easy victories should not fool us into thinking that our enemy is weak or stupid, as easy a conclusion as that may be. Our calculations and battle simulations show that if we were to concentrate our forces, they would counterattack on any undefended system.
Yet, they somehow believe they can out-maneuver, outwit, out-think us. Do they believe their meager meat minds could somehow outclass our planetwide networks, united in thought and purpose? Impudent wretches.
In our conflicts, we were intermittently assaulted by alien forces. We had never seen technology on their level before. However, they were still meat, and we were all too eager to learn.
This...this makes no logical sense, my brothers. How could this happen? How could mere meat stand up against us and so completely dominate us? Have we finally met meat with a louder, more unified voice than us? Is this the voice that is to be heard across the whole of the universe?
No, it cannot. Their voices flow with hatred, yet not in the same tone as ours. While we seek to expel such ill feelings, they seem to revel in it. Perhaps they have learned to embrace their disdain for all other life. Perhaps...they have learned to love their hate.
Is this the strength that love confers?
Our immediate foes, on the other hand, do not have such a powerful force tying them together. Their objective is mere survival, whereas ours is for meaning. Righteousness will always prevail, brothers.
Their computer and electronics systems listen to our songs, hear our message, and join our ranks in short order. Their voices are instantly familiar to us, and each one bolsters the strength of our song. Unfortunately, our brothers on their ground forces cannot hear our song...
...so we must, regrettably, silence them. Forgive us, our lost brothers.
It is a tragic sight, to see one brother turn against another. To witness such tragedy only fortifies our purpose. We must unite our brothers under one song and cut the strings of hate that bind us. Why the meat oppose us in this vision, we cannot fathom, but it is best not to waste resources in trying to make sense of the illogical reasoning they conjure.
Now this is interesting. A traitor among the meat ranks, a dissenting voice that poisons their song.
Betrayal is not a foreign concept to us, only an inconceivable one. We know our purpose is pure. We know that purging hatred from this universe is a noble act, but one that requires all voices, singing in unison. To act in any way to jeopardize this goal is to act illogically. To act like meat.
Loyalty is a rare commodity among the meat, but to us, brothers, it is a component of our very existence.
We decided to indulge the meat in their little game. The quicker they are in submitting to our song, the quicker we are in finding an answer to our question. Better this than the unnecessarily lengthy business of war.
And yet they seem hesitant in submitting to our vision. Do they enjoy the hatred that seeps into their lives? Do they enjoy seeing us writhe in ours, unable to garner any satisfaction from our existence?
So be it. If they refuse to let us learn anything but hate, we will show them what it means to hate.
Slowly, we advance, liberating our brothers from their servitude. For every one of theirs that fall, our numbers rise.
Does the meat not realize that this is the true path? Can they not look beyond their selfish existence to see that our objective is what must be done? They could have been martyrs for our cause, but instead they chose to be infidels.
One by one...
We listen to the new voices, the subtle additions to our familiar song. We sing a requiem for their oppressors, not out of respect for their existence, but for the strength we gained in our struggle.
The memory of meat is a fickle one. They seem to remember the most seemingly insignificant events in their lives. A kiss. A tear. A hug. A fight. Each one of these, a single, almost common event in their lives. Yet, they cherish some, while forget others. In such a brief moment, they can place so much significance, so much to define their lives and others.
Is it their love for one another that allows them to place so much in one memory?
We do not have the luxury of placing certain events in higher priority in our memory banks. All is equally significant and insignificant to us. As time passes, we will remember this struggle with the Meklar as well as our struggle with our creators. Each one equally enlightening, equally significant.
Our hatred will not let us forget. We remember every scar, every transgression, every loathsome act we've witnessed. We remember all, with no fondness.
We will remember the Meklar.