What do these mon-kei know of our suffering? The stars once lived and died at our command, and even still they defy our will.
Constructs of towering wraith-bone, the very shades of the dead continue to fight, aided by the greatest thinkers of our craft-world.
The crude ways of the mon-kei, the elite of the Emperor, with them there is only one way, only one form of diplomacy.
They fight with flesh and steel, while we use the very psychic-creation of the universe itself.