Creative Commons Licence
YOUNGLING
A Terran Empire Story
by Ann Wilson
Copyright (C) 1992 by Ann Wilson
Unnamed world, 2559 CE
Joste was waiting in front of his desk when two guards brought the just-captured human into his office. He found it hard to look at the man without becoming physically ill, and wondered briefly how the guards could tolerate touching him. Well, that was their job; his was to question the man, and he found himself hoping the foul thing would resist, give him an excuse to use force.
It wasn't because the other was human, or because he was an enemy—Joste had questioned prisoners before without having had the slightest desire to use physical persuasion—and the man looked no more repulsive than any other human. Granted, he was dirty and his battledress was torn, but that was to be expected from someone who had been in combat. And, though he was bound, the man held himself proudly.
No, the revulsion wasn't caused by anything so straightforward. It was what the man had done— Joste's thoughts shied away from consideration of such obscenity, and he had to force them back. Simply endangering females without dire need was enough to earn a dishonorable death; they were so terribly few, less than a fourth of the Traiti race, cherished for themselves and honored for the young only they could bear—a thing that happened less often than any could wish.
And this monster had actually led females into combat!