In the darkness, you begin to make out a few distant sounds. There might be voices around you, and some kind of distant rumble. You realize that your eyes are closed, but your head is pounding so much you hesitate to open them. Reaching out with your other senses, you try to make sense of where you are. The voices come and go, and the rumble mixes with a mechanical whine that jars you. You can feel something hard against your back, and warm air against your face. Your hands are lying across your stomach, and you think that you might be cuffed. You take a slow, silent breath, and catch the scents of oil, metal and rock. You open your eyes.
You're in a large, rocky cavern easily half the size of the Strike Deck back on your mothership Normandy. Rebel trucks are parked neatly against one wall, and airships are scattered between the massive support columns that look like natural growth of the rocks. Dim lights on vehicles and equipment augment the few standing lamps, which cast a red glow across the industrious work of rebel mechanics and technicians. This is clearly a well-established base. You can see at least a dozen tunnel entrances cut into the rock. Rebels are moving freely in and out of each.
You're lying on your back on what looks like a cargo dolly. A cluster of rebel soldiers are around you, armed to the teeth. Beyond them, you can see at least three airships parked in the dim red lights. You're still in your armor, but your helmet, forearm display and weapons are all gone. You don't see Amori, or any of your other troopers.
"Hey," one of the rebels says, motioning down toward you. "This prisoner's awake."
"Out for a lot longer than the other one," comments another.
"I'm sure he'll be happy to know this one's still alive—he seemed pretty protective."
They're talking, you realize with a wash of relief, about Amori. So he's in this base somewhere, also a prisoner.
You sit up, trying to suppress the wince as your head throbs with the movement. Your hands are indeed cuffed, and you leave them resting in your lap as you look around. You have the full attention of at least six rebel soldiers gathered around you, and none of them looks friendly.