I snort. “Weren’t you the one lecturing me about how life isn’t fair?” “It isn’t. All I’m saying is, the squad serves a purpose now. Maybe in the Old Era there was a place for mercy. But not anymore.” “My uncle never hurt a child or killed anyone.” Anyone who didn’t deserve it, anyway. “Your uncle was a threat to the Company.” “He was a rancher.” “He was a deserter. He was Aberrant. And he jeopardized the one thing my father values above all else: order.”
