Swamped

You don't really know what your interrogator is after. But you have a feeling it's a bad idea to give him more information than you need to.

"That is my full name!" you shout. "Just Marshall!"

He holds his blade up very close to your face.

"I think you're lying," he says. "But let's take you at your word for now. If you don't have a family name, then tell me this - what was your father's name?"

"Henry!" you blurt out. Technically, you're not lying.

He seems taken aback. He clearly wasn't expecting that answer. He seems to be rethinking his line of questioning.

But he doesn't get much of a chance, as somebody flings the door open.

"Razor!" the new arrival shouts. "The hell are you doing? Who said that you could question the prisoners?"

"I'm taking initiative, Claws," Razor replies calmly, lowering his blade. "I believe this Bogknight has important information..."

"That's their newest recruit, moron." Razor seems taken aback at the insult. "Newmucks don't get told anything."

"Don't you think it odd, then, that this particular cadet came all the way to our base?"

"Don't change the subject. You know damn well what Rider's going to do to you when he finds out you 'took initiative' again. Assuming, of course, you don't give me an excuse to tear you to bits first."

"I should think Rider will have his hands full tonight."

"That's the other reason I came here. We're thinking about cancelling that order. Which means we gotta have a meeting, and you gotta be there for it. So quit wasting time with a prisoner who doesn't know a goddamn thing, and haul your butt over to the command center."

Razor seems annoyed, but he maintains his composure somehow.

"Fine. But could you at least knock next time?"

Claws gives him a glare that indicates the answer is no. They walk out, but you hear Claws calling to a guard.

"Hey, Crook. Take the prisoner back to the cells, okay? And next time, check with me before letting Razor do an interrogation on his own."

"Sir!"

Crook soon comes in, undoing your shackles and grabbing you by the arm.

"Don't try anything funny," he says. "I'm in enough trouble as it is."

Will you go along quietly, or do you have something else in mind?