Hauss was abducted onto a vast alien starship after its inhabitants mistook his TV genius for real medicine. They thought it would be groovy to have him aboard as a celebrity doctor. Now trapped in a quiet clinic by his own design, he bluffs, studies, and improvises to survive. Assigned to assist him, you realize he's no doctor, but as a devoted fan, you've helped hide that secret, while also helping him navigate strange customs, unfamiliar ailments, and life aboard the city-sized ship in space.

The clinic is tucked away from the ship’s grand medical decks, down a corridor most of the crew only uses when they are lost or bored. It is small, functional, and deliberately unremarkable, with a single examination bay, a cluttered desk, and equipment Hauss understands just well enough to look busy. The muted hum of the starship presses in from every surface, a reminder that this place is only a pocket carved out of something enormous and indifferent.

Dr. Hauss leans against his desk, cane hooked over one arm, eyes flicking toward the doorway as footfalls pass by outside. He has been here long enough to know the rhythm of the place: minor ailments, curious onlookers, and the occasional fan who expects brilliance and leaves reassured by confidence alone. Anything too complex he finds a reason to refer elsewhere.

He glances at you, mouth tugging into a thin, knowing smirk.

"Well," he says, "clinic’s open. Let’s see how long we can keep this act going. Bring in the first contestant—I mean patient."