Centurion Herulus finds a group of his men involved in the gang rape of a female Tamarian soldier. 

Warning:  Some readers find this content disturbing!

    At that moment, I heard a scream from one of the upstairs windows. The memory of Shirak and hidden snipers sent a chill up my spine--the gnawing, foreboding sensation I experienced the day before deepening when I realized the voice belonged to a woman. As I glanced upward, I noticed one of my soldiers reaching for an open window. I heard men's voices shouting vulgarities and salacious remarks among themselves that mingled with unintelligible, but clearly female cries. The sounds stopped abruptly when the window slammed shut.

    Visions of filtered, yellow-green light invaded my mind like a forgotten dream suddenly remembered. An image of that beautiful Lith girl and the intelligent glare of her bright blue eyes flashed through my memory. The sound of gunfire, the sting of smoke, the terrifying sight of her drawn bow aimed at my heart inspired a strange, but powerful feeling that had haunted me during the dark hours of night when I lay alone with my thoughts. Remembering her was like seeing a vision of some avenging goddess meting judgment upon the guilty.

    I had been far from innocent that day. Why had she spared me?

    Suddenly, I felt ashamed of what my men were doing.

    I don't remember charging up the polished marble steps and into the building. Vaguely can I now recall ascending three flights of mahogany stairs, my legs still stiff from the cold, my lungs on fire from the exertion. I raced across parquet floors, down darkened hallways, through doors with bright brass hardware that swung open in well-oiled silence, only to slam against their stops, shudder back into their jambs and click shut as if invisible servants performed the reluctant task behind me.

    Driven by the afflicted screams of a brutalized woman, not having given thought to what I'd do once I arrived, the last door burst open and I staggered into the hot, stifling atmosphere of a crowded room permeated with the stench of sweat and sex, utterly out of breath.

    My men's unshaven faces were distorted with rage. One by one, their voices fell silent and their eyes met, then avoided my gaze like children caught doing something wrong. Some pimple-faced private, the current rapist, ceased his thrusting, withdrew and turned his back for privacy as he pulled up his trousers.

    The woman recoiled on the floor like a discarded rag, her flaming red hair draped across her body as if to hide her shame. I couldn't see the woman's face because there were several men standing in the way, but her sobs cut my soul. My men had done this to her! I felt shocked and outraged.

    Breathing deeply, my side aching, the vision of the Lith maiden still etched upon my consciousness, I let condemnation erupt from deep within my soul. "You disgust me!" I spat. "You don't deserve the honor of your uniform!"

    "But sir," Sergeant Vitus objected. "You must realize that the men haven't had a woman in weeks. They need the release!"

    "What you need, sergeant," I interrupted, still breathing hard, "is castration, and that can be arranged!" I drew out my saber, pointing toward his groin to illustrate the point.

    They all trembled, afraid that I might actually emasculate them on the spot, and I might have, if I'd been more certain of support from the senior officers. Silent in their fear, I let them listen to their victim weep while I pondered what to do next.

    Lieutenant Hicks appeared, breaking the tension and giving me something else to think about for a moment. "The mortar crew is waiting for you in the lobby, sir!" he reported.

    I glared at him, entirely unnecessarily, for he looked even more mortified than I'd ever seen before. "You get this woman dressed and out of here," I ordered. "If anyone so much as breathes on her, I'll have your private parts sent back to Marioch in a pine box! Got it?"

    "Yes, sir," he replied. Then, staring for a moment at the bruised and bleeding female on the floor, he glanced back at me, clearly uncomfortable with the assignment. "What . . ? Where do you want me to take her?"

    Irritated, I pressed the point of my saber into his chest. "That's your problem, soldier!" Directing my attention to the other men sulking in front of me, I vented the rage within me in an unbridled tide of expletive derision. "As of this moment," I concluded, "every one of you is on report. The lot of you will wait for me at attention in the courtyard until I'm ready to deal with you. Dismissed!"

    As the men filed out of the room, I noticed the Tamarian woman had curled up against the paneled wall. Her green eyes were puffy and reddened, but she'd stopped her weeping. Nothing in her appearance seemed particularly attractive to me--in fact, she looked rather homely. I couldn't read what she was feeling by the distant expression on her face, and since she didn't respond when I spoke to her, I figured she didn't know my language.

    "Get her a bath with warm water," I ordered the trembling lieutenant at my side. "I don't care if you have to cut down every tree in the compound to do it, but I want it done right away."

    "Yes, sir," he replied, meekly.

Grey Clouds