"It should have. They were... not pleasant. My mission was to get myself captured in the guise of a Marilacan rebel, locate a particular officer - Guy Tremont, I think his name was - and have him prepared for pickup when my Dendarii broke us out a little while later. I got myself captured, and that's about when the plan went straight to hell. They were keeping the prisoners bundled all together in a single huge force-bubble, issued with exactly the minimum rations required by interplanetary law, which were delivered periodically in an enormous pile of identical ration bars. Exactly one to a customer, just like the cups and bedrolls and clothing articles they sent us in with. Our floor was bare dirt, our ceiling was the sky. When I found Tremont, he'd gone catatonic, and was still alive only because a friend of his made him eat and drink periodically."