He could tell the time by the change of guard. The harsh light of the cell was constant, and Jack had to use the quilt to block out enough light to sleep. After the shock of the first day wore off, he used his training to block the fear that pushed into his heart. Jens would find him. It was just a matter of time before the teams would close in. He just needed to endure the abuse, stay focused, learn as much as he could about his captors. He could tell by the vibrations and sounds of the ship that it was fast, but it did not travel in time.
The ship was cold, and he kept the quilt around him. Although his captors were clearly strong telepaths, they also talked with each other in a dialect similar to another he heard a long time ago. Two Adyans guarded the cell by day. At least he thought it was day because of the flurry of activity in the hall. The older guard stood at his post at night.
Each day began with an inspection. He was forced against the wall while they checked him over for scars, marveling at the speed the wounds they inflicted healed. The rest of the day depended on who had access. The Commander allowed members of the raiding teams to practice on him if they were in transit. Those days were agony. Jack figured out that their intent was to create as much terror in him as possible by physical torture or flooding his mind with horrific images. He noted that those with the brightest golden eyes were the worst. When the torment was at its peak, they tapped a vein in his neck and drank. The guards referred to it as "blood service" and laughed when they allowed access to him.
When blood service was not required, they would take him to a lab where their scientists probed the secret of his immortality. These members of the crew were not as cruel as the raiding team, but the experiments were painful, and he often died only to revive surrounded by Adyans watching and taking notes. Once a blue-eyed Adyan scientist attempted to stay the hand of another before he cut into Jack's abdomen before a vivisection, saying "This is not our way." He was rebuffed and Jack never saw him again. He closed his eyes to the memory. So many ways to die.
But the worst was the Commander and her consort. They enjoyed the blood service and the humiliation he endured. She alone used her telepathy to probe Jack's mind and memories. When she broke down the box Jack used to lock away memories of the Valiant, she took special delight in recreating the most severe traumas. When he recovered, he used the Time Agency techniques to rebuild them, but the recovery process took longer and longer as the days passed. It was now taking two to three days to completely heal. Using his blood to make hatch marks on the portion of the wall, hidden below the frame of the bed, he kept count. Forty-three days. He could tell the ship landed several times, but quickly moved on. But he had no idea of their location.
Jack drew the quilt around his body against the cold. He focused his mind. If I could only get a message through. He concentrated, willing desperately that his thoughts would reach them. Jens, hurry. Find me. Doctor, help him find me.
The door opened and a pair of raiders came in. Blood service. He recognized one nicknamed Sud. His eyes were bright gold and his methods were exceptionally cruel. His partner joined him in the cell as Jack pulled away to the corner. The Captain steeled himself as they moved to his side. Sud moved behind him, lifting him as his partner wrapped her arm around his neck, piercing it.
"Don't…" Jack pleaded as they began. "Please…"
Then he began to scream.