Saturday, October 20, 2007

Here on Ibitus 412N (Part 2)

It seems that boredom has gotten the best of us. Or at least, one of us.

L2 Group Ensign Gladlock decided he wanted to know just what this alien race wanted with our fluid waste (they've been harvesting our piss for weeks now, and all the while we've been kept quite healthy). He talked one of his buddies from training quarter into breaking one of his fingers, so that he might be transported to another part of the containment complex for medical assistance.

This of course, was assuming that our captors knew anything of human anatomy or for that matter true medical care.

Apparently it worked. After Gladlock convinced his one of his subordinates to snap his pinky finger 'like a graphite stick', the ensuing cry of pain (yes, it was quite authentic, I'd say) brought one of the guards straight to our holding cell. Gladlock was given the once over by the ET guard and was set on a long-ish gurney sort of mechanism on which he was rolled out of our view.

About 20 minutes went by before we saw him again. Amazingly, he had returned to us with his finger in perfect shape, bone healed and everything. There weren't even any calcium deposits that we could feel through his skin, indicating some sort of synthetic healing of his human bone.

After he was returned to us, we sat him down to hear his story about what the other annexes of this prison were like.

"I can't believe what I just saw," were his first words to us.

"First I was brought to a sort of elevator that was shaped like a Tarlan fighter but ultra-thin. It was like, powered by light or something. Very strange. Anyway, after a trip on that thing I was rolled through a a few partitions where I saw exactly what these things...these...creatures...are doing with our shit."

Of course, by shit he meant the purplish, sludgy, stinky piss our captors have been clamoring for during our stay here.

"At one point I was able to see through a glass-net sort of wall into a chamber where there must have been at least 50 of these ET's all huddled around a huge kind of crystal. It must have been at least 8 feet tall with rounded edges jutting out in all directions. Very bizarre, man."

Gladlock was flexing his hand while he spoke, still in amazement of how quickly they had repaired his finger.

"Anyway - one of them approached the crystal with a container of our shit and started pouring it on top. Then they all just stood there, completely still just like statues. Like they were waiting for something."

I knew everything he was saying was genuine. The size of his eyes as he talked was testament to this.

"As our piss came down on the crystal it started melting it. The fumes coming from it began to fill that room and it was then that the ET's just started going fucking BONKERS! I mean, they were shaking, flailing, smacking each other, I think I even saw a few fucking each other."

We were all transfixed on his story at this point.

"I didn't get to see anything else. The put my hand under this sort of lamp device which instantly reset and healed everything. I swear guys, the technology in this place is un-fucking-real."

Someone in the back announced, "Fuck man, I'm breaking my wrist. I wanna see that shit."

I told him he wasn't breaking anything and that we're going to find a way out of here. Exactly how that's to be done is my job to come up with but something has to give. I'll not have 48 of my best soldiers kept here just to piss in cups for some fucked up alien race.

Until my next entry.

Astron, out.

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