Editing Tranch warfare for a noble (section)

==Chapter 6: Meeting==

Georgio woke up chained on a table, with his standard issue guardsman uniform having been replaced with only some cheap pants. Not that he could complain- the wound seemed to be infected, and removing clothing from that would be agony. He looked around himself to see where he was: The room looked like a filthy, primitive medicae station. The table he was chained to seemed to be made entirely of plasteel, and felt cold on his back. At least it eased the pain... Even if only a little. Georgio then heard steps approaching.

"Yes, yes. I will have the prisoner talk as soon as he wakes up. The wound was nasty and got infected, so I can't say if he will awaken today, tomorrow, or next week. He might never wake up."

The voice was calm, and seemed to belong to a man. Georgio tried to listen, but a wave of pain washed over him, making his vision blur.

"What do you think? Will he bend under torture?"

Another voice. Georgio was not sure of the source's gender, though.

"He will. One way or the other."

Georgio decided to attempt  to escape, as being tortured was not on his to-do-list. He managed to squirm one arm away, after which the rest was easy. Just as he tried to stand up, another wave of pain made him feel dizzy. He tried to get support from the table but instead pulled a box of surgical tools down with him, causing noise and getting multitudes of cuts in the process. He heard people running closer. He quickly stood up, holding a scalpel as a weapon.

Then the mutants rushed into the room: One of them small with his left eye as big as Georgio's fist and the other having four arms. They stared at Georgio for a moment before charging him.

Georgio slashed wildly with the scalpel, but did not manage to cause lethal damage to these abominations. He was pushed to the ground, and stabbed with a needle. He lost consciousness mere moments later.

Georgio woke up again strapped to a chair. It seemed to be torture time. In the far end of the small, dark room, he could barely see a person. He still felt the effects of the drug.

"Whooo.... Aare youuu?"

He couldn't even speak properly, not to say anything about his inability to think straight.

"I am Breca. Assigned here for your interrogation."

Georgio squinted and realized the person before him was a woman, although a mutated one: Her knees seemed to bend in the wrong way.

"Pleese... Don't hurt mee..."

He started to feel his mouth. At least he could speak relatively normally.

"I need you to tell any and all information regarding the plans of the guard in the near future. If you prove helpful, there will be no need for pain."

"Emperor spare me... I cannot tell anything. I wasn't told anything!"

"But are you not a Noble? You seem to be of... "Pure" breed, and are not such men put to command?"

The way she said pure seemed to be forced: Like she disagreed with the whole concept of either nobles or the perfection of human form! How could such a lowly thing speak in such manner!

"Cursed mutant... Acting all high and mighty now that I cannot move?!"

"I see. Well, what else to expect from ancestors of evolution... It seems pain is the language we will need to try next."

Georgio never before had felt this helpless.