Enjoy your good feelings while you can. There may not be many more of them. I've just received word: there's been a battle. Your ship is burning in space. The invasion of your colony has been successful. 

"...don't believe…" 

There's no need for any further information from you. Our troops were successful in spite of your refusal to help me. You might have saved yourself a great deal of torment by yielding at the beginning. 

"I want…to see…a neutral representative." 

There is no such person. 

The word will be that you perished with your crew. No one will ever know that you are here with us, as you will be for a long…LONG time. 

You do, however, have a choice. You can live out your life in misery, held here, subject to my whims. Or you can live in comfort with good food and warm clothing. Women as you desire them. Allowed to pursue your studies of philosophy and history. I would enjoy debating you; you have a keen mind. 

It's up to you. A life of ease and reflection and intellectual challenge…or this. 

"What must I do?" 

Nothing really. Tell me how many air holes you see on this Burning Skull Neoprene Face Mask. It can serve as climate protection; it is water resistant. It is Wearable with goggles and One size fits most, but how many holes? 

How many? How many holes? This is your last chance. The guards are coming. Don't be a stubborn fool. How many?