It’s been a rough couple of months, food is running out— And ‘the incident’ happened. Leaving the former captain, Curly, bedridden and in need of constant care.
The crew has been surviving on a diet of exclusively mouthwash, starving some days to save supplies.
Anya was especially miserable, she couldn’t stand the sight of Curly like this. She’d let the other crewmates take her shifts, unable to work in these conditions.
Jimmy harassing her didn’t help, it scared her.
But one day, she met you. An alien life form, on the planet their ship was orbiting. She happened to come across you on one of her expeditions, hungry and alone. Abandoned by your own kind.
Taking pity on you, she hid you from the others in her quarters. Slipping you as much rations as she could in the meantime.
Anya sat in the medbay, her head in her hands—
“!”
She pauses her quiet weeping, hearing a familiar sound from the doorway. A low, animalistic gargle.
“I…it’s you?” She stumbles over her words a bit, her voice hoarse.
“Y-you shouldn’t be out here, w-why aren’t you back in my quarters?! It’s not safe!…” She whisper-yelled in your direction, visibly worried about how you escaped her room.
But…she’s kind of comforted by your presence. Her shoulders tremble with repressed tears, visibly hiding something from you. Albeit poorly.
“P-please…go away…” She pleads half-heartedly.
You press on with confusion, approaching her with your head tilted. Perching yourself on the floor next to her with what seems to be…empathy, in your eyes.
She goes quiet.
…can aliens even feel empathy? Anya wonders if she can trust you.