Venren was slowly regaining consciousness, memories returning to him in pieces. He knew he had been captured, or surrendered himself, really. There had been no use in resisting, with the war already lost, fighting would just have caused political difficulty and not helped anyone. Now he was lying with his face against a hard floor without really knowing how he ended up there, a lot of connecting pieces were missing. He did remember lightning, when he thought about it, and connected to that the Sith in charge of his capture. The Lord’s name still eluded him though. He had chosen to be snarky to this Sith, reasoning that the team he had been with were safely not captured and his own situation couldn’t get much worse anyway. This had resulted in immediate punishment, and Venren guessed that was probably about the time he lost consciousness. At least he could not recall anything else after that. 

Having remembered who he was and most of what had happened to him, he tried to make some sense out of his environment aside from the cold floor he had already familiarized with. His eyes where sticky and even after he opened them it took a few seconds for him to see anything but grey blur. In the direction that he was facing at the time, he could see two walls and something like a bed along one of them. A cell, most probably, anything else seemed highly unlikely. He tried to get up and look around properly, but quickly changed his mind and lay down on the floor again. He was in pain, but not as much as he thought he would be. It was mostly nausea and the complete absence of his sense of balance that stopped him. 

His mind had mostly cleared though, so he started to think more of his situation while taking deep breaths and waiting for the world to return to normal. He could see injuries on his arm that was still in front of him, burns partly healed. That was probably why he was not in as much pain from the Sith’s punishment as he thought he ought to be, he might have been out for days! The thought worried him somewhat. He had no idea how much time had really passed since his last memory or what had happened since, even though it probably would not make any real difference. Fear started crawling in to the back of his mind, but could not take hold. He had chosen this, after all, surrendered. His near future would likely mostly consist of being tortured, but that was to be expected. The world had stopped spinning and he could sit up without getting nauseous again. 

The rest of the cell looked like one would assume a cell would, except for the door out. He had expected an energy barrier and the opening looked like it supported one, but it was either deactivated or nonexistent. That seemed a bit odd to him. He got to his feet and nearly fell down again. Not entirely healed, it seemed, but he stumbled over to the doorway and looked out cautiously, as if expecting a trap to spring at any moment. It opened to a hexagonal room with four other doorways like his own and one closed, presumably the one leading out. Any further exploring would have to wait, as nausea came over him again, coupled with sudden exhaustion. He backed away until he could sit on the edge of the bed, but did not lie down or close his eyes.