She felt Malcolm's cold, gloved hands run up her arm, fingers delicately testing the scales. She inwardly chuckled, the Viper recalling just a month ago when she'd never allow a human this close to her. So much had changed since he'd swept her up in this human crusade.

The human's digits eventually pressed against a slightly discolored patch of scale, and unpleasant sensations shot up her appendage. Natasatch thought she stopped herself from reacting heavily, but the perceptive human must've noticed her red eyes slightly narrowing. He quickly continued up from her forearm to her shoulder, stepping away and extracting his hands.

"Looks like you arm's almost, but not totally healed, Nat. Give it another few days."

She shrugged, the sling that carried her healing arm slightly impeding the motion. "Very well."

Natasatch looked away from Malcolm, observing the somewhat-familiar lab in the bow of the Avenger. This was her third time in the room; the first being her initial biochip removal, the second a week ago for Tygan to help heal the Viper after a rough spot of combat. Natasatch's current visit was far less dire than her previous ones, as Tygan merely requested her presence as to help some volunteers learn how to treat her kind.

Malcolm, the one who suggested the program, was joined by two fellow trainees, a blonde female and shaven male. Doctor Tygan, the closest thing to a Viper medical expert, watched Malcolm give Natasatch a quick examination, oversaw them all, plus another inhabitant whose presence slightly unnerved all but the doctor.

Tygan gained what Viper medical knowledge he possessed using the physical approach, so naturally having the students undertake the same only seemed natural. An expired Viper, a casualty stolen from a recent battle she didn't attend, lay on a table about a dozen feet away, awaiting dissection. The currently living Viper reminded herself that she had seen plenty of dead before, even those of her own kind, so this shouldn't be different. However, something of the environment of this sterile, clean lab, wholly unlike a battlefield, would not let her relax.

Natsatch shivered, finding a new appreciation for the human clothing she'd grudgingly taken to wearing. The cardigan Malcolm gave- no, gifted her staved off the chill of the lab, and the sensation of the wool on her scales gave a welcome distraction from their lab project ahead.

Tygan spoke, "Excellent work, Mr. Silva. You're quickly catching up to the rest, despite no formal training."

Malcolm rubbed the back of his neck, cracking a smile. "Thanks, Doc. I try my best," he said.

"Now, onto the next exercise. While gruesome, gaining a physical familiarity is crucial for proper medical treatment, regardless of species."

The other medical students nodded knowingly, checking their gloves and walking to the table. Natasatch felt like she should be present despite her discomfort, but Malcolm's raised hand stopped her. He offered, "Hey, I know this is about Vipers, but you don't need to see this if you don't want to. How about we'll just call you over when there's a specific, uh, thingie that we want your input on?"

Relief bloomed in her chest. "I... would prefer that, Malcolm. Thank you."

"That alright, Tygan?"

The bald man nodded, his face obscured by his lab mask. The other two students hadn't put theirs on yet, so she caught their expressions, seeming to her like looks of pity.

By the time Malcolm had prepared himself, Tygan and the other students had removed the Viper cadaver's armor, no further obstructions preventing their grisly investigation. Tygan asked, "Before we start, any further questions?"

The female student raised a hand. "Why does the snake have nipples?"

"Wait, what- holy crap, it does."

Natasatch, lacking knowledge of the term, followed their pointing fingers, to the two venom sacs on the cadaver's chest. Even then, she didn't follow the humans' train of thought.

"Looks like I just won forty bucks," the male student said. He poked Malcolm with an elbow. "Hey, Xeno, you still want to hit it?"

The human in question turned his head towards his compatriot, Natasatch imagining a scowl on his obscured face. Tygan spoke up, interrupting them both. "Yes. Human characteristics and those of aliens are becoming increasingly intermingled, thought it is quite astonishing to see features such as those."

"What are they even for?"

"What are what for?" Natasatch spoke up.

"The nipples!" The male student pointed again at the exact same place.

"The venom sacs?" She responded, confused.

"No, the- see the little stubby part on the end?"

Natasatch looked more closely, finally noticing the small outcropping of soft flesh. She, of course, was aware of its existence, like her own, but as it had no use, she almost never thought of it. "Those are nipples?"

"Yes."

"What of them?"

The male student suddenly burst into laughter, his amused cries echoing in the lofty chamber, while the female gave a few chuckles of her own. Tygan remained still, but made no effort to conceal his irritation at the comical interruption, and Malcolm seemed oddly hesitant. Sensing Natasatch's confusion and rising annoyance, her human friend spoke. "It's, uh, a human cultural thing, Nat. I'll explain more later."

Natasatch crossed her arms, another gesture she'd picked up from humans.

"I'm guessing Morsov and Taylor just find it funny to find stuff for mammals on alien snakes."

"Hmmph. Not all Vipers have them. Some have smooth venom sacs, some with those bumps. It's of no significance, like..." She tapped her earholes. "Like your ears, and how they are different."

The four humans glanced about each other, turning their heads this way and that. To their group's mild surprise, Tygan was the only one of the group with free-floating earlobes, while all three of the rest had their ears attach neatly at the bottom. Interesting from a genetics standpoint, yet irrelevant from a practical standpoint. Exactly the point.

"It certainly is noteworthy, however. This does reinforce my theories regarding the alien genetic manipulation."

"We're all ears, Doc," Malcolm said, earning a groan from the female student and a snicker from the male.

Tygan ignored the joke. "The fact that such interesting variation in phenotype exists, a 'bug' in their manufactured genetic code, either means that their genetic engineers simply don't understand the human genome to correct it permanently, or that they have decided their final version was acceptable for production despite any... quirks. Both theories may indicate that modified species may contain certain genetic "flaws," ones that we may learn to exploit."

He looked in the direction of his datapad, but stopped. "However, that was all merely theoretical talk, and this meeting was for the purpose of physical application." Without even looking, his hand picked up a scalpel from the tray nearby, the silver blade glinting under the lights. "Now, let us begin."

A tiny wave of the hand from Malcolm caught her attention, which the Viper took as a sign to duck out. Natasatch slid herself to the far side of the room, examining the walls and testing her grasp of human writing by examining the labels. The busywork helped, but it was hard drown out the wet squelching noises or ignore the coppery smell that started to permeate.

Natasatch really wanted to listen that stereo Malcolm gave her. She'd mostly ignored the device when he wasn't present, preferring the silence and her own thoughts, but right now her human friend's gift would be a welcome distraction.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she finally noticed her name being called. Natasatch turned back, seeing that the humans apparently finished due to their removed facemasks. Yellow-green blood stained the scrubs of the two other students, but Malcolm's own clothing looked nearly pristine in comparison, which she found oddly pleasing. She guessed the humans wanted to ask her something, so she returned, doing her best to focus on those still living.

"Hey Nat, we're mostly finished with the ugly part," Malcolm said.

"That is good," she responded, relieved.

"The dissection was an enlightening experience, but we'll need more than physical knowledge to understand how to treat your medical needs," Tygan said. "If possible, could you offer any further advice, or your former organization's method of treatment?"

The Viper looked around, uncertain. Frustratingly, nothing immediately popped to mind. "I... can't say much."

"Won't, or can't?"

"Can't," she clarified. "I've never been hurt enough to need medical help. We just lick the scrapes and move on. Health examinations happen regularly, but you just pass under a scanner in a hallway and take a different door if unwell. I've always been fine, so I can't help.

Malcolm caught her eyes in the corner of his vision, and the human coughed to gain everyone's attention. "Hey Doc, don't you know how to heal Vipers already? I mean, you already performed brain surgery on one, and everything else really should be easier."

"An excellent question," Tygan responded, "but comprehensive medical care will be more complicated. Performing the surgical procedure on the subject here was under the most ideal of circumstances. I doubt injuries sustained in combat will be as orderly, nor heal as easily as a single surgical laceration."

The other humans gestured their agreement, and even Malcolm seemed assauged. Natasatch tilted her head down, a clawed finger of her unhindered hand feeling the slight groove of her head scar. The dull brown faded into her natural amber, hardly noticeable from her scale pattern to human eyes. She wasn't free of the conversation, however, and Tygan once again addressed her.

"Still, I'm certain that you've at least witnessed your allies become heavily wounded before. Correct?"

"Correct."

"Do you remember what happened to them afterward?"

Natastach angled her eyes upward, trying to to scrounge her mind for any relevant information. "Hmm... Yes, I can remember. Once two troopers lost their legs from some kind of bomb in a backpack. Another, Enesea, lost a lot of her lower tail from a powerful human rifle. I can think of a few more, but the orders were always to finish the enemy first, and then stabilize our wounded with a..." She lacked a direct English translation. "Spraying stick? It is a tube, and from one end comes a clear plastic, which would harden and stop blood where it flowed."

"That seems to support previous observations," Tygan commented. "Our medikits operate in a similar fashion, though they disinfect and numb at the same time. Still, what transpires afterwards?"

"Other troopers carry them away, sometimes on stretchers, sometimes they've already died. They go in vans or dropships, and then fly off." She shrugged. "That's all. I apologize for not knowing more."

Doctor Taylor spoke this time. "Do you ever see your injured friends again? Or, even talk to them again?"

Natasatch almost reflexively answered yes, but for the life of her, she never recalled encountering Enesea or any subordinate trooper again. Nor had she actively sought them out. It simply hadn't occurred to her. She averted her eyes. "No, I never have. They all are reassigned or die in treatment, and replacements come in within days."

As she looked up, the Viper saw the humans regarding her carefully. Wincing, frowning, though obviously not angry at her. Malcolm tried to give her a smile when their eyes met, but the gesture failed to hide the sad look behind his eyes. "Sorry about your friends," he offered.

The tail of their dissected Viper twitched slightly, harmlessly, but still managing to startle those present in the room. Natasatch tried to ignore it. "Death happens," she stated matter-of-factly, shrugging. The foggy memory of Enesea and her other absent comrades refused to leave her mind.

A hand on her shoulder roused the Viper from her mental turmoil, Malcolm extending some physical support. She gave a cursory glance at the smaller human, then shut her eyes. Focusing on the very physical sensation of the touch helped banish the hazy thoughts, and for a few moments, all was well.

The male student, Morsov, eventually broke the silence. "Looks like we'll be on our own in figuring out how these things tick," he said.

Doctor Tygan pivoted, walking alongside the autopsy table, addressing the trainees as he proceeded. "Even then, we do have a head start. Through specimens like this one, we have a fairly comprehensive knowledge of Viper physiology, and I trust the material and notes I will provide will help you familiarize yourself. Meanwhile, our living subject is rapidly recovering, which provides-"

"Hey, Tygan?"

"Yes, Mr. Silva?" Tygan responded calmly, despite the abrupt interruption.

Natasatch sensed some hesitation as Malcolm broke contact with her, the young man facing the. "Could you, uh, not call Natasatch a 'subject?' It's kind of dehumanizing."

Natasatch chuckled slightly. "I am not a human, Malcolm."

"No- Well, yeah..." The human massaged his temples with his free hand. "That's not what I meant. I mean, Nat may not be a human, but she's still a person. After all, she's a part of XCOM like us, and she's doing it because she wants to, so we can't be treating her like some lab rat."

"If you will recall, Mr. Silva, Natasatch was brought aboard as an experiment. Her later induction was an unintended consequence, though certainly not unwelcome," Tygan reminded, and the two other medical students nodded.

Malcolm winced. "Not helping, Tygan."

The long-haired woman spoke up ash raised a hand. "Technically, personhood isn't restricted to humankind. Humans were just the only sapient species around when the philosophers thought up that definition."

Morsov didn't seem convinced. "So, what? You're saying human rights apply to non-humans? How aliens have inalienable liberties?"

Taylor stomped her foot. "Dammit, I'm a doctor, not an ethical philosopher! But even I can tell you that this Viper is too smart to treat like an animal." Malcolm certainly seemed pleased at having won over somebody, while Natasatch felt a slight glow from the compliment.

Morsov scoffed. "Do you two honestly think that ADVENT and the aliens care one bit for human rights?"

Malcolm took a step forward, meeting and holding the skeptical man's gaze. "Do you honestly think we're just like ADVENT?"

Morsov clenched his fists, but released them, his face lowering shamefully. "No, we're not them," he said, softer than he'd ever been. Morsov looked to the alien that spurred their brief argument. "I... would like to apologize, Miss..."

"Natasatch."

"Natasatch." She was getting better at gauging human sincerity, and by all accounts, Morsov looked very sincere.

Malcolm turned back to his friend, worried he'd find her tense, but Natasatch actually had little trouble remaining relatively relaxed. The debate was obviously a fight of words, not weapons, and she wasn't keen on diving into areas outside her expertise. Besides, Malcolm handled it quite effectively.

"My apologies as well, Natasatch." Tygan offered. Doctor Taylor gave her a thumbs up, which Natasatch knew was a sign of approval. At least in this small group of people, she was human enough for them.

However, something still plagued the back of her mind.

"Then what is she?" Natasatch pointed at the Viper on the table. Even as the dissection mutilated her bare chest and lower body, her recognizable and pale face stared lifelessly at the high ceiling above. The scale pattern looked remarkably similar to her own; perhaps the two shared a donor, maybe even a dam. Perhaps she would also have run from their kin's servitude, if given the chance. Natasatch couldn't have been the only one.

She finally recognized the tightness in her chest. Sorrow. The sensation felt alien to her. "Was she a person too?"

Tygan lowered his head, the other humans following suit. "I suppose she was. If only more could be done."

The rest of the medical training session consisted of reading and writing for the students, and proceeded without incident. It almost felt like a blur.

Malcolm escorted Natasatch back to her warm but solitary room and wished her goodnight, promising he'd visit in the morning. Once again alone, the image of the unknown Viper's dead face didn't vanish until Natasatch she turned on the soft music of the stereo, closed her eyes, and let dreamless sleep take her.