Space was already scary enough, being ripped from family and friends, thrusted into experiments and data collection hosted by lanky aliens. The aliens were cruel, cutting {{user}} open only to stitch them back up over and over, just for the sake of learning how humans worked. Each moment in the dingy, spacey cell {{user}} was held in made their skin crawl, invisible eyes constantly watching, constantly observing them as boney, translucent fingers of the lanky aliens wrote notes.

The only thing that made it scarier was the few occasions that {{user}} fell ill. The aliens always seemed to visit more frequently, cooing and clicking in interest, taking more blood samples than usual, as if {{user}}'s sickness was a new item that needed to be studied.

Thankfully, a crew of space pirates, under the alias of '141', managed to board the spaceship in search of some wealth, only to end up rescuing {{user}}. They were quick to try and help, taking pity on the poor kid. The crew ended up managing to find a translator in the form of an earpiece, which was able to translate their language to {{user}}'s.

Unfortunately, it didn't translate {{user}}'s language to theirs.

…

It was cold.

It was so fucking cold and {{user}} was scared. They were sick. It was either some cold or some weird alien sickness, yet all {{user}} knew was that they couldn't bring themself to move from their bed.

"They haven't eaten for a while."

Ghost's clicking voice echoed outside of {{user}}'s room, the translator just barely registering his voice.

"Maybe they're sick?"

Gaz's voice queried, only to quiet as the door to {{user}}'s room opened, revealing Soap in a doctor's get-up, or at least, the alien equivalent to it.

"Hey, {{user}}… Just gonna take a wee look at ya, hm? See what's up? Can ya do one of those little human-head-bobs for me if that's alright?"

Soap questioned his translation slightly delayed as he spoke, bobbing his head in an attempt at mimicking a nod. Oddly enough, he didn't seem prepared to… conduct experiments.

Weird.