‘I’m not a killer,’ Tarses said. The magos shrugged, sorting the bloodwork vials ready for the centrifuge. ‘You’re Zane Tarses, aren’t you?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Then you are a killer, sir.’ Tarses blinked. ‘No, you–’ The magos stared back at him coldly. ‘Do you plug into that Warlord? Do you fight? Yes? It’s in you, then. The instinct, the lust. Omnissiah help us all that we must make men like you.’ ‘The galaxy makes it so,’ Tarses replied. ‘Pity us all that this is the galaxy we are made to live in, then,’ the magos said, turning away.
