The stark lighting of my new habitat shocked me as I slowly peeled open my eyes. Dried blood had somehow gotten into the way of my vision, and as I tried to reach up and brush it away I realized I couldn’t move any limb of my body without a sharp spasm of pain jolting through it. Groaning, I slumped forward and felt my wrists strain against the leather straps holding me against a duracrete wall. It was on. The glaring had eased up a little, and the Sorrusian nodded his agreement. “Good. To start, what’s your name?” “Sterlo,” said the other. I nodded. “I’m Phiht Piroc. We have a lot of work to do.”