DETENTION BLOCK; DUSK SPACE STATION
When Jaina opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was the warm brown of Zak Arranda’s eyes, very close to her, staring back. Automatically seeing that, her analytical side kicked in, and she took the chance to look around the room they were in.
They were in a stark white and panel-walled cell, with a sink in one corner. Upon rolling over onto her back and allowing her eyes to travel some more around the cell they were in, she saw the lavatory cubicle in another corner; there was a flimsy steel door hanging from dulled iron hinges. The walls in the cubicle were not panelled like the rest of the cell was. They were smooth, flat, and seamless—the same could not be said about the floor.
There was a mirrpanel set into the wall above the sink in the other corner, and it didn’t look at all fragile by conventional means. She lamented that. At the very least, it would have meant having a makeshift weapon to use against whoever had put her in the cell.
She was still in the clothes she last remembered herself in: dark blue blouse and slacks covered in a brown robe and bottomed off with her leather boots. Zak was in his own black on maroon on black attire from the last time she had seen him.
And he was still staring at her. She turned her head to look back at him. He was lying on his side looking at her, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and he breathed steadily through his nose. He gestured upward with his eyes. Not upward toward the ceiling, but upward relative to his position—the doorway.
Jaina rolled over again and pushed herself unsteadily to her knees, and then furthermore to her feet. She rubbed groggily at her eyes and then dropped her hand to her side and looked up …
… and straight into the eyes of evil.