Previously:

"You will come with us for violation of Doctrine 4.56.921-B, the discussing of offworlders, on the orders of Warden Onan. You are under arrest, and sentence will be carried out swiftly."

Chapter Two

In silence, Miles and Julian were marched to a detention center, cataloged and stripped of all tools and communicators. The guards never said anything after their arrest, nor were they allowed to contact the station. They meandered around a large cell, beating their feet and rubbing their arms, trying to keep warm.

"I don't get it," said Miles. "What Doctrine? What have we done? What sentence?"

"I wish I knew, Chief," said Julian. "I hadn't seen anything in the landing protocols on behaviors we would be expected to follow. In fact, I think the exact wording was to have a 'pleasant experience.' I want to know who to complain to, but this is not pleasant."

"Julian, be serious! We have no idea what the sentence is, but it doesn't sound like it's going to be something we want to stick around to find out. We should see if anyone here knows anything."

In the planet's cool nighttime many of the occupants of their large cell were asleep, but there were several rambling about. Some in pairs, some mumbling, some simply sitting and staring off into space. After an hour the only information they had gotten, and that by eavesdropping, was that all sentences were the same. Death at sunrise. There were no trials, no appeals. Guilty parties were executed the morning after their arrest. Without knowing how long this planet's night was meant that Julian and Miles didn't know if they had the equivalent to an Earth hour left, or an Earth day.

They sat with their backs to the wall and looked around. It seemed to be the same combination of slightly green skinned people and smaller, paler people. Probably malnourished in some way, Julian said, or those who work in dark areas, like coal miners from Earth's past. Always seeming to be smaller and paler than their surfacing dwelling counterparts. Miles didn't say it, but coal mining seemed to be a serious offense on this planet. Probably 80% of the population of the jail seemed to be small and frail. Though it seemed that some of the miners worked at the jail. As the sun started to color the eastern horizon a slightly lighter black the employees of the jail came to work. Guards doubled, janitors and support staff walked about, and the population of the jail woke. Still, no one spoke to them, though many people, workers and inmates alike, openly stared.

"I hope this isn't how we reacted when the Vulcans first came to Earth," said Miles, impatiently. "It's damned distracting!"

At his outburst, one of the workers in the jail looked up and made eye contact with him, and she did not look away. Her expression never changed from a slight surprise at the level of his voice, but she continued to openly stare at Miles for several minutes. And then, without warning, she smiled. It was the first positive interaction that had been initiated by an Ugran, and it did not go unnoticed by both Miles and Julian. However, very quickly she looked away, and then scurried past their cell, hiding her face in a sheet of waist length brown hair. A large Ugran male, presumably the Warden, soon stood in front of the gate to the cell. A guard to his left opened the gate.

"I am Onan, Warden of this jail, de facto leader of Ugra Prime. You have all been convicted and found guilty. Sentence will be carried out swiftly. Follow!" And with that he turned on his heel, leaving the guards to round up the condemned and march them from the cell, with Julian and Miles in front.