Chapter 6
Jason woke up when the throbbing became too much to bear. He opened his eyes a crack, wincing at the effort. It took him a couple of moments to remember where the cold floor he was lying on was, what the darkened room around him was. A cell. On Spectra. He winced again.
"Shit", he muttered, pushing himself to a sitting position, fumbling his way in the darkness to find the wall, so he could at least rest his back. His left arm was throbbing beyond anything he had experienced before and he cradled it as he crawled in the dark. Finally, painfully, he reached the wall and rested against it. He did a quick inventory: teeth, all in place. Legs, ok. Left arm, definitely not ok. Lips, lower lip sporting a deep gash. He passed his tongue experimentally over it, slowly remembering what had happened in the previous hours, since he had found himself surrounded on Traitor's Pass, surrounded and hit by a kind of ray that de-transmuted him...
"Shit", he said again, feeling his wrist and finding it naked. Which meant that his bracelet was missing. Which meant, in turn, that he could not communicate with the others and he could not transmute.
Snippets of what had followed started to come back to him. He had been knocked unconscious. He was brought to when the ship carrying him landed somewhere, which, after a quick look, he ascertained was Spectra. Which meant that a few hours had passed since he was captured. He remembered that, dazed and disoriented, he was brought before the base commander, or top goon in G-Force parlance. He remembered being punched around a bit, then his left arm being crushed, which was when the gash in his lips must've occurred, when he bit down hard in order to stop himself from crying out. On that front, at least, he could be proud of himself. He had gone through the first day of Spectra hospitality without wincing. By now, G-Force would be on their way to rescue him.
He leaned against the wall and started doing a set of breathing exercises, as the condition of his arm meant he could not engage in any other activity. He knew that his cerebonic powers would help him heal much faster than normal, but faster did not mean immediately, so he concentrated in making his arm as comfortable as possible, and resumed a steady, disciplined breathing.
His current predicament prevented him from worrying too much about the other problems he would face once he was rescued - and Jason had an ironclad conviction that G-Force would come to rescue him. He knew he was guilty of gross insubordination, and this time, during combat. If he left Spectra alive, Anderson would probably kill him. And if Anderson didn't, the Federation Council would court-martial him. And then Anderson would kill him. He sniggered, allowing himself the luxury of laughing at the situation. It wasn't that he was not afraid of another round of Spectran interrogation - chillingly, he realised that the first round was not even a proper interrogation, as he wasn't asked any questions - but Anderson could be scary in his own way.
The breathing exercises calmed him. He closed his eyes, drawing upon an inner strength, mentally preparing himself for the next round.
"Hurry up with that rescue, Mark", he muttered.
A clanking noise made him look up. In the rectangle of light formed by the opening door, he could see two goons entering.
To be continued
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