With all due respect, we (the collective of executive authority neurons in the biological unit you currently are attempting to slaughter) do not support your nihilistic pursuit of the complete destruction of what is, from your perspective, an entire galaxy.

Anarchy carries with it no shortage of clever beauty; you have done a fine job in staking your claim on lymphatic tissues. The chemical warfare we send against you has done little more than claim the lives of tens of thousands of hair follicles; bully for you. No, really! Your efforts are quite well done; you must wake up very early. Not only have you claimed more deaths for your cause, but you have left your opponent to the indignities of baldness, and that is quite the insidious bit of propaganda. I nod this hairless dome to your tactical superiority, oh worthiest opponent.

You must understand at this time, however, that more drastic measures are being taken against you. No longer a time to cut our losses, having absorbed so many already, we in the administration are prepared to end this immediately, and it remains up to you if it will be a conclusion on surgically amicable terms, or if we shall have to irradiate the entire neighbourhood in order to get our point across.

Your supply lines have been severed. Your communications are down. Our forces swarm to surround you, courteously summoned following the generous aid of our sister nation.

We understand your objection to this institution; in truth, we ourselves sometimes question its validity. Rest assured that your complaints and demands will not have fallen on deaf ears, and your martyrdom to your cause will not have been in vain. Already, amendments have been put into place to improve the labour rights and treatment of the working classes. We say with no irony that this collective will be better after you are gone; we swear it.

All we ask from you is a peaceful surrender.

For everybody who won: glad to have you with us still.
For all the ones who didn't: it's not your fault; they're all sons of bitches. You aren't forgotten.
This noder has personally never experienced terminal illness; I recognize my privileged position in that matter, and I do not compose this writeup to appropriate the narrative of that struggle. Some close to me have lived and died through it, however, and characterized their disease as a personal entity against whom they were at war. This is my modest effort to give a voice to that.

Iron Noder 2013, 7/30

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