The Rembrandt Legacy
“Inmate 34257-alpha.” The slightly distorted voice roused me from my slumber. “Inmate 34257-alpha, wake up!” I sat up and looked around. In front of my cell, behind the stun-field, waited one of the guards. Their blue-and-white armor was built to hide their identity, from the gender-obscuring hardshell plates protecting them from impacts and energy blasts to the faceless mirror visors and voice modulators built into their helmets. Probably done to prevent retaliation if any one of their...