Steal five dollars and you're a common thief. Steal thousands and you're either the government or a hero.

The universe danced towards life. Life was a remarkably common commodity. Anything sufficiently complicated seemed to get cut in for some, in the same way that anything massive enough got a generous helping of gravity. The universe had a definite tendency towards awareness. This suggested a certain subtle cruelty woven into the very fabric of space-time.

You were safe on a troll. Anyone wanting to mug a troll would have to use a building on a stick.

Now that their long war was over, they could get on with the proper concern of all civilised nations, which is to prepare for the next one.

… you were so worried about legal and illegal that you never stopped to think about whether it was right or wrong.

You did what you were told or you didn't get paid, and if things went wrong it wasn't your problem. It was the fault of whatever idiot has accepted this message for sending in the first place. No one cared about you, and everyone at headquarters was an idiot. It wasn't your fault, no one listened to you. Headquarters had even started an Employee of the Month scheme to show how much they cared. That was how much they didn't care.

You can't inspire people with facts. They need a cause. They need a symbol.