Suicidal glory is the luxury of the irresponsible. - Lois McMaster Bujold

Anyway, she now realized, the military histories she’d read had left out the most important part; they never told what happened to people’s babies.

Love was long gone, in her. She got by on a starvation diet of loyalty these days.

Peace to you, small lady, he thought to Raina. You’ve won a twisted poor modern knight, to wear your favor on his sleeve. But it’s a twisted poor world we were both born into, that rejects us without mercy and ejects us without consultation. But at least I won’t just tilt at windmills for you. I’ll send in sappers to mine the twirling suckers, and blast them into the sky…
He knew who he served now. And why he could not quit. And why he must not fail.