At first, it was his back, but as he tried to sit up he felt like his abdomen was on fire. Adding insult to injury were aches in his face. He reached his hand up, gently rubbing and finding bruises that were still quite sensitive. His memory was a bit of a fog, and he blinked a few times while trying to recall the last thing that happened. Placing his hand on the bed, he found it was nothing more than a small, roll-up blanket on a hard, stone floor. He groaned as his hands pulled his shirt up and saw the bandage over the spot where Gax had shot him. “You’re lucky. Running all over Delfor with a wound like that? Miracle you didn’t bleed out.” He was taken aback. Zarim was so groggy, he hadn’t even noticed there was someone else in the room with him. And sure enough, standing in a darkened corner was the Dreadnought who took him down in Delfor. Except now, she didn’t wear her armor. Just dressed in normal military garb, she stepped closer to him and her face became clear. Of course.
