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.”
