The Promoters had done a number on Tom. He looked like he'd been hit by a Riftsplitter, and didn't sound much better.
"They were gonna take my memory. I felt them digging around in my core, trying to take away my past. They tried to take my mother from me Ritt." I've known Tommy for a couple dozen cycles, long enough that he was more family to me than any of my nestmates. The torment, the agony in his eyes destroyed me, we'd saved each other a thousand times and shared every close nip, every savory job. I didn't feel bad for the Promoters anymore. I wove him up something for the pain and held him to my thorax until it kicked in.
We'd have to get him back to the Net for repairs, and he wasn't up to help us drag him through the port. Much less hold off the Sniffers and Sticks while we got off the ground. On top of that there's pretty much no way Fi would be able to help us out. Going out and rescuing a friend from a bunch of 'Breakers was one thing, murdering an officially empowered law enforcement division is the sort of thing that requires a contract and we don't exactly have the economic weight to throw at hiring an Elite. Which was kind of okay with me, I was pretty sure recent events had given Kath and I more than enough aggression to vent.