David's space marine uniform and all his weapons were gone, no blouse, no boots, nothing but his cotton underwear, not even a blade. This was not what he had planned and certainly not what he had volunteered for. He still had one hundred and fifty good service years left. He was supposed to set up a temporary garrison with two-dozen handpicked soldiers and a dozen other mercenaries to guard a group of civilian space prisoners/colonists. He was not supposed to end up on a god-forsaken, barren plain on a prison planet ten light years from the emperor's furthest outpost. At least, he hoped he was on the prison world. No telling where Roberto had dropped them.
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