I am Gallente, this isn't supposed to happen, aren't we supposed to be free? What are these things they've implanted in my body ... is this really my body anymore? Am I still me?
The first death ... in the dark, breathing that foul fluid ... the fire in my head ... the scanner!
And now, I'm one with my machine, chained to it, in point of fact. My only respite are brief strolls through my quarters before I get plugged back in. At least I needn't fear the wetgrave ... they can always fire the scanner again.