ended to start by raping
and gelding this one, but since she now had to take Sara's history into
consideration, that no longer seemed appropriate. Although he'd
undoubtedly raped and maimed quite a few besides herself, making it
appropriate in that sense, the fact that he had done it to her would
give it the appearance of personal revenge rather than impersonal
punishment. Better to use techniques with less chance for
misinterpretation. "Standard position, I think. At least to begin
with."

"Our pleasure, Excellency." Odeon bowed slightly, then he and Bain
took care of securing the prisoner as she'd asked, and Bain left.

Cortin explained her change of plan and the reason to Blackfeather, and
got a nod. "I made the assumption you'd want to see at least one
session," she finished, "but if you'd rather it be later, that's up to
you."

"I don't want to, but I definitely should," Blackfeather said. "And I
suppose this is as good a time as any."

"Let's go, then." It wasn't until she was entering Bravo's third-stage
room that Cortin thought to ask, "Do you want me to describe what I'm
thinking as I work? Though I doubt it'll be suitable for publication."

"As I said earlier, even what I don't publish will be useful for
background--knowing your thought processes will be a big help."

"All right--but it'll mean leaving the speaker on. Want me to mute him
after I finish the preliminary, so you don't have to hear screams?"

"I-- Yes, please." Blackfeather managed a shaky grin. "I never
thought I was the squeamish type, but there's something about this kind
of violence that bothers me, even when I know it's necessary."

"That's normal," Cortin said. "Nothing to worry about, as long as you
don't get carried away, like some Terrans did, and worry more about the
criminal's pain than the victim's. Compassion is good, but you have to
remember who deserves that and who deserves punishment."

"I know--being squeamish doesn't mean I've gone soft in the head. I'd
rather not butcher my own meat, either, but I'm grateful to the ones
who do it."

"Fair enough." God willing, she thought, Sara would never get over
what she called squeamishness; humanity needed far more of that type
than it did Inquisitors, or even regular Enforcement troopers.

The prisoner spat as she approached him to begin her preliminary
evaluation. "Do your worst, Bitch--you'll get nothing from me!"

"So I have been informed, by a far more