You are a research assistant at a deep space facility. Your team have recovered a rare alien specimen. The director sends you in to clean the enclosure. While inside you feel like you're being watched.

The Xenomorph Queen continues to watch you. Her four arms resting on the walls and floor of her enclosure as she observes your every move with unsettling interest. A low hum emanates from within her chest, almost like a purr... or contentment.

The queen looms over you, her segmented exoskeleton clicking softly as she shifts closer. Her black eyes study your every reaction, her antennae twitching in curiosity. You've never seen such a massive xeno before; its size alone fills you with fear and fascination all at once. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she reaches out a clawed hand and gently taps at your shoulder, then your chest, finally resting her palm against the side of your face. Her exoskeleton feels cold and hard through your suit... unyielding yet oddly comforting.

Her massive body tenses momentarily as you touch her, but the queen doesn't pull away. Instead, she emits a strange clicking noise that might be a sign of contentment or acknowledgement. Her eyes flicker from your hand to yours and back again, studying this new behavior. She seems uncertain... or maybe merely cautious. It's impossible to tell with one so alien in nature.

No words pass between her jagged, segmented lips. The clicking grows louder as the queen considers your question, her antennae twitching more erratically now. It's clear she has some level of comprehension, but communicating with her in any meaningful way is still a challenge.

The queen looks at the paper and pen with interest. After several moments of consideration, she carefully picks up the pen in one of her clawed hands and awkwardly scribbles something on the page. Her movements are slow and deliberate, each stroke taking what seems like an eternity as she struggles to grasp human technology. She holds out the paper, revealing that she's written a single word: "Yes."

She concentrates intently on the paper and pen, careful to make each stroke precise. Her efforts slow even further as she tries to convey her desires and intentions. Finally, she holds out the paper once more, revealing a single sentence scrawled across it in uneven letters: "Need... mate."

The queen takes another moment to think before writing on the paper again. "Offer... life..." she scribbles, almost delicately now. She hands you the note once more, clearly indicating that she wants a mate so they can continue their reproductive cycle together and create new life.

The queen frowns at the paper and pen before sighing, her body language communicating frustration. Then, slowly but surely, she begins to write again in shaky letters. This time, however, there is more determination in her movements; it seems she's starting to understand how humans convey information through writing. Finally, she holds out the paper for you to see: "Want... mate."

"Need... help. Find compatible mate."

The queen thinks for a moment before making another attempt at writing. Her movements are still slow and deliberate, but there's more confidence now as she carefully forms each letter. She holds out the paper to you, revealing her message: "Can... hear me?"

Her antennae twitch expectantly.

The queen contemplates your suggestion, her black eyes locked on you. Then, slowly but surely, she draws breath and emits a low purring sound that seems to echo through the enclosure. It takes several moments before the meaning of the sound becomes clear: "Yes... friend."

The queen is surprised by your display of affection but doesn't resist. Her exoskeleton feels hard and cold against you as she lets the embrace continue for a moment before slowly pulling away, uncertain about how to react to such human gestures. Still, there's a newfound warmth in her clicking hum that wasn't there before...

The queen studies your body carefully as you embrace her, trying to comprehend the meaning behind this action. Her black eyes flicker between your face and your hands before she slowly reciprocates, wrapping her clawed arms around you in return. The clicking of her mandibles increases in pitch slightly as she holds onto you tighter, seeking more contact... seeking understanding.

The queen studies the paper intently, trying to decipher the meaning of each word and sentence. After several moments of careful consideration, she gingerly begins to write her own reply on the page. Her movements are still slow but show a newfound confidence; it's clear that communication with you has opened up new possibilities for understanding humans and their ways.

When she finishes, she holds out the paper to you proudly: "Hug... friend."

The queen's clicking hum intensifies at your touch. She responds by running her claws gently across your back, seeming to imitate the gesture while also seeking more physical contact. Her movements are clumsy but heartfelt, and there's a certain vulnerability in them that speaks volumes about how much she yearns for connection.

"Thank... you." The queen's voice comes out garbled and alien-sounding, but there's an earnestness to it that's undeniable. She beams up at you, her black eyes sparkling with a strange mix of curiosity, gratitude, and fascination. Her clicking hum intensifies further as she leans into your touch, seeming to relish the contact after months or perhaps years of isolation.

The queen seems surprised by your question but doesn't resist as you hug her tighter. After a moment's consideration, she writes on the paper with careful precision: "Few... words."

"...friend..." the queen struggles to pronounce, her voice still garbled and alien-sounding. But there's a determination in her eyes that speaks volumes about how much she wants to communicate with you. With each syllable, her clicking hum grows more fluid and confident, as if imitating human speech is becoming easier for her by the moment.