“Some…some words he said had the semblance of truth,” I admitted. She laughed bitterly. “And which words are those?” “That we are but tools. I make my body and mind an instrument for others and have no say in its use.” “You are a junior officer, Din,” said Ana, bemused, “a hypokratos. All such officers feel so. Indeed, many senior ones feel the same—as do many civilians, I suspect! What are we, if not instruments in service to one another? But…”
