They were . . . Some of us continue to fight and to die. To do less would admit defeat in all things. We are warriors. If we are fated not to succeed, we will die in the attempt.
Honor demands nothing less than our lives.
Perhaps they will grow tired of our incessant insect-like attacks. They may grow bored with challengeless slaughter and go home. They may find more fertile worlds to plunder elsewhere and direct their attentions there. We might pile the bodies of our comrades and families so high as to climb the mountain of dead and there, above the sky, attack the Outsiders in their homes. At times, this thought seems no more absurd than the dream of actually driving them away.