A Different Kind of Story

"She's all yours, General," the older Captain would say as he motioned to a young girl.
She couldn't have been older than five, and she hardly looked her best. Her head was bandaged, only a little big of hair left that poked through them near the front. Her whole upper body was in bandages, along with her hands, not wearing anything over them as it was much too painful. The pants she was wearing looked about three sizes too big, no belt on base small enough for her, so a bit of rope had been used. Her sad eyes were focused on the floor; she looked very much defeated, and not at all appreciative of just having her life saved. The General suspected he knew why.
He lowered to one knee and opened his arms to her, saying in a quiet voice, "Come here, child. I'll take care of you."
She slowly looked up at him, and he could see that the good doctor hadn't left her eyes alone, either, as the light shimmered off of them. They were a pale red, a reaction to the enhancements, as they'd once been brown. She studied him, and he could almost feel her weighing the possibilities. Then, hesitantly, she would step forward. Another step, and another, before she sank against his chest, sore little hands clutching his arms.
He smiled faintly and closed his arms carefully around her, so he didn't hurt her tired and troubled body. Once she pulled away, he stood up again and looked over at the Captain. He felt the girl wrap her arms around his leg, and was relieved that she was taking to him. "You know I don't approve of this. But I will take care of her."
The Captain grinned slyly and shrugged his shoulders. "You haven't much choice, Awada. If you had refused, the Ambassador would have surely gotten you discharged. Dishonorably. Good day, General."