301. Judged and Sentenced
“Mister Remian, right?” A man in a black-and-gold formal suit-mixed-with-armor offered a weird kind of gesture with one hand.

“Uh… yeah.” Remian didn’t know what that gesture meant. Was it some sort of salute?

“Huh.” The man looked him over, then glanced about the room. It was reasonably comfortable for a holding cell, plain black walls, with a bed, a small table, chair, and two stalls in the corner for washing and biological excrement, though they held both familiar-looking equipment and strange items Remian couldn’t identify. The cell even had controls for light and ventilation. In the end, while bare, it wasn’t altogether torturous. “They seem to treat you well.”

“They seem to think I’m one of your people.” Remian grimaced and admitted. “I’m not.”

“No, you’re definitely not. According to our scans and database, you’re not registered to any interstellar faction we know.” The man cleared his throat. “In fact, your genetics indicate a very low level of technology, and there are tra
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