The Chain of Command

The human interstellar exploration vessel “Serendipity” had been in orbit around the planet of a newly-discovered advanced civilization for 23 shipdays. The initial excitement had finally died down. They had not been peremptorily shot out of the sky. 

The LIPs (Local Indigenous Population) had been genuinely cordial. Scientists, linguists and technicians had made rapid progress in exchanging data. The crew had been startled that the aliens wore no clothing at all except for a bag, suspended from their hump, where they tucked all manner of things. And so, they began to call the planet-side beings “Tuckers,” and the appellation stuck like over-done spaghetti to a wall.

The crew passed around the rumor that an initial formal diplomatic visit was being planned. Preparations put the crew back into extended duties; tensions were boiling over; something was definitely cooking. And, so it was. An officer had been selected to go down to the Tuckers’ planet.

For most of those on-board, this alien contact was the culmination of otherwise-unfruitful careers. Interstellar duty tended to the uneventful. Normally, the crew had little to do except master their duties, chew the fat with friends, and plug into the media center – vegetating for hours at a time. Naturally, the crew was drooling over the prestigious work ahead; they were already savoring the sweet taste of success and promotions to gravy posts back on Earth.

Robert C. “Bobby” Saunders was a full Bird Colonel. [For those who may not know, a “Bird Colonel” is a common, but not formal, term that refers to the silver emblem of an eagle with its wings spread (also sometimes called “chicken wings”) that is worn by full Colonels.] As you have probably noticed, Colonel Saunders’ name is an unfortunate distraction, especially as it was well-known that he hailed from Kentucky, one of the sixty-three Federated States. However, this bears no immediate relevance in this story, so we shall simply call him “Bobby.”