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The Shuddering Breath I Became

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   The Shuddering Breath I Became The cryo unit hisses open, and I remember my name: JB, pilot of the *Subi*. The med-techs call it “revitalisation.” My body hums with a new, raw power. Muscles knit with synthetic fibres, bones laced with carbon-filament. I feel incredible. Invincible. But in the polished chrome of the med-bay wall, my reflection is a stranger. The eyes are mine, but they glow with a faint, amber diagnostic light. The scar from the asteroid scrape is gone, replaced by skin too perfect, too seamless. They say they rebuilt me better. Stronger. To survive the long dark. But when I clench my fist, I hear a servo-whine they insist isn’t there. When I calculate a jump vector, the numbers resolve instantly in my mind, not on a screen. Is this their design? A monster of efficiency, crafted for a purpose I didn’t choose? Or is the monster the part of me that wanted this? The part that, bleeding out in my crippled cockpit, whispered *yes* to any salvation? Did I consent...
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Jingili Circumnavigated Apical

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Remembering what the imperial powers set in place.
Civilization, Christianity, and Commerce.

The essential values justify achievement and superiority.
To inflict an ideological belief of inferiority.
And to punish cultures into subservience and dependency.
Masters and soldier ants.

Each time we try to free ourselves.
Sovereign power adjusts its grid of discipline.
A correction to form a new normal.
A nation of docile subjects.


Humanising pest control.
From less suffering to more suffering.
From pest controller to pest and back again.
Forming another correction and resetting our new normal.
Who controls our benefactor?
According to the Gospel of Wealth.


Our pests make our life difficult
Miserable

We need solutions
The door behind the curtain

Trying to controlling them
From and then to

Until domestication becomes
Apical dominance











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