The medical officer attached probes to my temples and began pressing all kinds of buttons on the screen in the wall behind my head. I ignored him completely. I didn’t want a step-by-step analysis or explanation. I wanted it over.
“There will be no pain with the testing, Warlord Dax,” the medical officer said, not looking at me but at his screen. “The matching takes into account many factors, including physical compatibility, personality, appearance, s****l needs, repressed fantasies, s****l drive, genetic likelihood of producing viable offspring—”
“Begin, without the blathering.”
The man closed his mouth. Commander Deek may have been in charge of the Atlan battle group, but I was a leader in my own right and everyone knew it. Including, it seemed, those in the medical station.
The man
