As ever, standard disclaimers apply.
Panic swept through Severus Snape, leaving him breathless and incoherent. He strained to escape and found himself trapped, unable to move the leaden appendages that he knew were his own arms and legs. It was dark or he was blind -- no way to tell. He felt no pressure against his limbs, but neither did they respond to his demands. Move, by Merlin! Move!
A dim light flared and held steady and he realized that he was not blind after all. Yet, the light was insufficient for him to recognize any of the dull shapes so reluctant to reveal themselves. Yet he calmed enough to take command of his voice. "Who is there?!" He demanded gruffly.
In response a face moved into view. His mind reeled and he gasped in shock at the nightmarish caricature of a woman with its exaggerated brow structure, much too broad cheekbones and grey streaked red-gold hair framing the overlarge face. But then he looked into her pale green eyes and knew she was no misdrawn horror but rather a real being. Simply, she was not human.
Of course she was not. His thoughts steadied agaqin, his mind cleared and he recalled the rescue. If it was a rescue. "Who are you?" he asked.
Her response was immediately forthcoming however much incomprehensible. She was not speaking any language he understood. She grimaced, (no mistaking that expression) and turned away from him, moving out of his view. He couldn't turn his head to watch her. A moment later the light level increased just enough to chase away the deep shadows of nightmares and cast his prison into a more clinical light. There was no sense in asking anything more. She wasn't going to answer him. Possibly she didn't understand a word he said. Possibly she simply didn't care to answer.
She returned carrying something small and squarish that fit neatly in her hand. She passed it over him, holding it steady and still here and there; over his heart, one lung, the vein at the left side of his throat. She held it longest over his ankle, which, he realized with an abrupt surge of shock, wasn't hurting any more. He watched her face waiting for the pale green eyes to look into his dark ones. They did and a startled look passed over her features. As soon as their gazes met, a word formed in his mind. Legilimens. He felt the word roll over his tongue and rumble through his chest.
Nothing happened except she mumbled something and returned to observing the instrument in her hand. She moved out of his view and continued muttering while she did he had no idea what.
The legilimens spell would reveal her thoughts, as alien as they must be. If only he'd had his wand. If only he could move. He tried again and failed again.
In a moment she had returned into view and gave him a brief, partly apologetic partly frustrated look. His gaze slid from her face to her hand. It held something long and thin, its end so sharply tapered that its point was invisible.
He gasped. An indistinct memory -- more of a sensation, really -- threw his mind into automatic and his body into panic. No! If only he could move! He struggled and thought ceased. No! He grabbed a pulsing line of rescue, a wellspring of energy within himself.
No! He screamed in mindless silence and the energy crackled and exploded and the female was flung away from the trapped wizard.
A terrible noise blared through his skull and actively aided the drowning of any feeble thought of self or control. But then a vice closed against his temples and blind instinct moved his hands outward until they struck and wrapped around a pair of large biceps.
The shrill wail died and all that was left was his own screaming and with that sudden awareness, the sound tearing from his throat stilled. He peered into a devastating brightness, blinking rapidly, trying to force his vision to clear.
"Snape. Severus." He recognized that voice.
"Shacklebolt," he gasped, acknowledging the speaker's identity. The vice released him and he fell back against a padded surface. "What... What happened?"
"You did, Snape." There seemed a faint amusement in the voice. Severus still couldn't get his eyes to accommodate the brightness. "You and a bit of wandless magic." A babble of voices joined in, all rapid and loud and speaking a tongue that he did not understand. "Hm. Our hosts are not pleased, I think." There was a pause again filled by the alien voices. And softly, on top of them came a whisper close to his ear. "Snape, can you see me?"
"No. No, what happened to my eyes?!"
"I don't know. Whatever you did blinded the healer too. Can you tell me anything? Something set you off."
Severus frowned unconsciously. "I awakened. Here I suppose. But I couldn't move. She was here, this healer, I recall her face. She was here. I don't remember anything else." He sensed motion and reached out wildly only to connect with empty air. The Auror had moved off. He could do nothing except wait. Though he could do that just as well sitting up and he pushed himself upright surprised at the amount of effort this required.
"It's me," Shacklebolt said just before grabbing his shoulders to help him. "You feeling any better?"
"I'm fine. What's happening?"
"She's waving them off. I think her sight is returning. She's a mite unsteady on her feet though. You pack some punch, there, mate."
"Unfortunately uncontrolled."
"Can you control it?"
"Could I before?"
"I honestly don't know."
"I don't remember." Severus squeezed his eyes shut. His head hurt. The analogy of a bludger to the face came to mind. But he wasn't sure what a bludger was. Apparently his memory was as faulty as ever.
Several sharp toned voices spoke from nearby then and he lifted his head toward them. "Your companion is a bit... dangerous." One of them finally spoke in English.
"Why are you blaming us? Perhaps it is your equipment that is at fault." Shacklebolt's voice carried an almost convincing tone of indignation.
"No, no. I am afraid this destruction came from him, not our equipment. Commander Malla is certain."
Severus heard the Auror sigh heavily as their hosts returned to their discussion in their own tongue.
"You are not unique in this ability." The interpreter's voice continued after a moment. "But such lack of control could endanger everyone aboard this ship. He will have to be sedated."
"No!" Severus balked. "I... I was simply caught unawares. It will not happen again." His muscles constricted in preparation for defending himself against attack.
"Only send us home and we'll be quite happy." Shacklebolt suggested congenially.
"We told you before. There has to be an investigation first." The interpreter was beginning to sound exasperated.
"I've told you everything we know. Which is deuced little, I know. But we have no idea how we ended up on your planet. Anyway, there is less likely for there to be any more of these accidents if Severus is allowed to maintain his own control."
The chattering, (which really sounded more like baritone magpies arguing), returned briefly, deflecting the interpreter's attention away from the two wizards. Severus' vision was finally beginning to return. He made out vague shapes including the Auror's recognizable silhouette nearby. He reached out and again took hold of the Auror's arm. "My sight is coming back," he hissed in a low whisper. "I want to leave."
"No less than I, mate," Shacklebolt replied in equally quiet tones. "But we're not exactly in a place where we can just walk away. Or even apparate."
"We are on another world."
"Not even that. It seems we are in space. Erm... Do you know what that means?" He saw Snape's confusion and didn't wait for an answer. "It's the airless region between worlds. Up above the sky."
"Muggles go there."
"Well, they try. They've gotten as far as the moon--"
The door to the corridor opened once more and all conversation stopped. The one who swept confidently inside was not the largest of the aliens, nor the eldest. But his bearing was so imposing that even the two wizards were hard pressed not to sense that this was a man of great authority.
"I'd wager we're about to meet the captain of this spaceship Snape. Don't rile him."
Severus carefully arranged his features so as to reveal no expression. His lack of a retort to Kingsley's admonishment startled the older wizard into a pensive silence.
No one spoke as the man cast an unamused glance at the rather impressive destruction of the room. Now that he had most of his sight returned, Severus was rather impressed himself. It looked as if a demon had lost its temper and tore everything and anything within reach. The man directed a query to Commander Malla and she responded curtly. He nodded and directed a question to Serat, at the same time eyeing the wizards. The interpreter answered, accompanying himself with broad gestures.
At last orders were barked out and the room emptied of all but the medic, the interpreter, the man undoubtedly in charge, and themselves.
The interpreter broke the silence with a rushed sounding speech, his gestures broader than ever. The man nodded once and held up a hand to cease the barrage of verbiage. He again eyed the two wizards but this time also approached them. He dipped his head, slightly, in greeting and spoke. Clearly his words were directed to them, for when he paused his gaze did not move from the pair. He was simply waiting for his interpreter to do his job.
"I am Captain Borszas. I would welcome you as guests but guests do not destroy their host's property." Came the translation.
"A good host does not attack his guests," Severus rasped back, sneering. Serat shot him a wary look before translating.
The captain looked startled then annoyed. He replied, still not looking away from the smaller pair of humanoids. "You were not attacked. Malla was going to give you an injection of vitimins to counter the deficiencies she diagnosed."
Puzzlement was the first expression on Severus' face but it was quickly supplanted by a firm ire. "I am deficient in noth--" The Auror's sudden vice tight grip on his arm cut him off.
"My companion is not familiar with vitimins," Shacklebolt rushed to explain. "But even if he was, the fact that nothing was explained to him beforehand explains why he would think he was being assaulted."
The captain looked thoughtful at this. "I understood that injections are not uncommon among your kind."
"Not for all of us." Shacklebolt replied shaking his head.
The captain's expression softened and he at last looked away from the wizards. At his word, the healer joined them and another short conference ensued. The two wizards exchanged wary grimaces.
At last the healer took a step toward Severus and looked down into his eyes, and spoke slowly. Her face wore an expression of deep contrition. She was making an apology.
"I accept. But I will not be subjected to any injections."
Their hosts looked resigned as they accepted the condition. Both wizards were relieved.
"Now, perhaps you can tell us something of this investigation." The Auror prodded.