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!
He brought himself under control; the grammar and harsh sounds of Imperial English were difficult enough without having to fight emotion at the same time. “Yourself identify,” he growled.
“Major Horst Marguerre, Imperial Terran Marine Corps.” It didn’t look at all good for him, Marguerre thought grimly. These huge gray-skinned humanoids were aggressive as hell — they were nicknamed Sharks as much for that as for the facial resemblance — and this one looked even less well-intentioned toward him than his guards did. “My ident code’s TERHE6-2063-4121. What’re you doing with my wounded?”
“They are medical treatment receiving,” Joste said. “Though there little chance for their