Welcome! I’m glad to have you stop by this corner of “SFR Brigade Presents…”
So you think you’re having a bad day? Imagine waking up from a nightmare of enslavement…in jail. With no idea how you got there, or even who you are. You’re “Tazhret”…”Nameless.” You’ve been accused of being a drug addict–because they found you rocketed on an illegal hallucinogen. And now, you’re about to be turned into an indentured servant–an izzy. You’d probably be looking for a lifeline, too. Someone–even if she might be only the product of your drug-fueled hallucinations–who tells you what you most need to hear….
Rough hands hauled him off the cot. Dizzied, he stumbled between the deputies, his steps dragging out of the cell, across the back of a large room crowded with desks, toward an oversized, dull-metal armchair, covered with straps. He stopped short on a hard gasp. The deputies pushed him forward.
“Move along, Tazhret,” the chief constable ordered. “This is your simplest path to a fresh start—”
Tazhret erupted into sudden violence, twisting out of the deputies’ grasp, jamming his elbows into their guts. They doubled over. A right cross to the chief’s jaw rocked the Tormin back.
Tazhret ran. Ran toward the exit, almost flying in light gravity. Must be on a lunar transfer station—
The electric hammer of a hurled shockstick hit him in the back of his head, fried his nerves, and plunged him back into darkness. Chains waited for him there, and an evil master. And a woman with nut-brown hair, who whispered, “You have a name.”
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