Torentaa Koren-Wak Wa!nggghhh wove the hundred dentrites of his* (male is not quite accurate as either gender or sex, but it's going to have to be close enough here) third and second major manipulators in the Gesture of Utter Negation, his radio-vocalizations modulated in disgusted disbelief.

"Surely this isn't possible for any species advanced enough to reach the stars. Surely a level of spiritual achievement and self-respect is necessary for such an august achievement."

Sorepthi Fashl-Nau Inóótukkkhhh spread her* (even less accurate, but this particular configuration of person is nearly always the one that produces the larvae from special outer sacs, so again, going to have to be close enough) spread her strong/social appendages wide and let them undulate with laughter.

"You make a great many assumptions there, Torentaa, and several of them are stupid. You know it is possible, because it is true. You merely wish it not to be. O Gene Priests! Your overstepping surely knows no bounds, and heeds no ignorance."

Torentaa hissed from several spiracles at once, and quarter-turned his main sensory/social facet in moderate though routine offense. "And you, Sorepthi, commit a great many smallcrimes against Ideal Decency, and several of them are novel. Imagine that, such a momentous occasion as contact with a new biosphere containing an allegedly sapient species would also be an occasion for one of our Lifeless Engineers to discover new ways of being terrible!"

Sorepthi straightened upward and hissed right back, though her own posture carried more amusement than indignation. "Really, Torentaa? 'Lifeless Engineer?' You resort to slurs to make your point? My caste's machines have allowed our species to conquer the stars, measure the unseeable, have freed our people from untold drudgery!"

"Yessss," Torentaa said, "but you do not...not...cut out parts of living beings and install them, as though they were...were...pieces of sacred flesh!" His whole exquisitely-sculpted form vibrated to some unheard tune of outraged sensibilities. "And our species dominated our planet, had great and noble civilizations, long before we ever sharpened a stone or stacked one upon another! We had the sacred power of the gene-meditations, to reshape ourselves in holy ways both small and large!"

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Sorepthi rolled her shoulders in exasperation. "Oh, spare me the sermon, Torentaa. I went to all the sacred-creche classes like all the other good little girls. And I'm free to believe as much of what I learned as I like. Your caste may still have an official part in governments, but your power to enforce your dogmas has long since faded."

Torentaa fell silent to let her speak, the bare minimum of manners, then rolled on as though she'd said nothing at all. "These creatures, though, they relied on implements from the very beginning! They relied on brute natural selection to change them, having no awareness of it until far into their so-called sentience, and even when they discovered it, a great part of them refused ever to believe it! And now they edit their own genes, but they do it with...with...machines!"

"Don't hyperventilate, Torentaa, it's not good for your spiracles," Sorepthi said drily. "Yes, beyond some basic epigenetics outside their conscious control, they are stuck with the genes they're born with, the bodies they're born with, unless they do some editing. And even then, their forms lack a certain degree of plasticity. They can change the workings of their cells to a degree, make muscle grow here, fat melt away there, but the basic form is hard to change. So they do it with new installations. I personally think it's quite ingenious." The happiness-shine in her eyes was so bright as to be almost vicious, which was likely her intent.

"THEY BUTCHER THEMSELVES!" Torentaa roared. "THEY DO NOT MERELY INTERFACE WITH MACHINES, THEY BECOME THEM! IT IS UNHOLY! IT IS FORBIDDEN! WE SHOULD TURN OUR FACETS AWAY FROM THEM FOR ALL TIME!" His entire body undulated with barely-restrained rage.

Sorepthi watched this display with a calm, almost satisfied air. "They're interesting, Torentaa, and you are outvoted. Trade and culture/tech exchange negotiations begin in three standard cycles. And I do feel for you, at least a little. It is hard to see one's influence wane, even when that influence is based on utter kravshit."

She rose from her stool and moved toward the chamber exit. Tornetaa continued to rant behind her. "Butchers! Defilers! This foul idea will spread! You will destroy our people's purity, you—"

Sorepthi spun and broadcast a powerful burst of words through the whole spectrum. "Purity is for chemicals, you vicious old fool. Not for people. I hope you drown in it."

And as she went through the door to prepare, for there was much to do before first meeting, Sorepthi Fashl-Nau Inóótukkkhhh let a small but utterly satisfied sigh escape her upper spiracles.