“I think we’re getting away with it, Fran,” Deputy High Commander Ari said to the female beside him, “this seems to be a good place the High Commander chose.”
“But are we blending in properly?” Fran asked.
“Sure we are. Some of the locals are coming out of their units and giving us what I assume to be currency. Research shows this to be normal behaviour at this point in their stellar cycle.”
“Aren’t we supposed to be all facing the same direction? And shouldn’t our attire be more uniform? I’m not so sure you should be deploying your lux enhancer, either”
“I can’t read the orders without using it,” Ari said, “the available light isn’t enough.”
“But the natives of Terra haven’t evolved lux enhancement – you’re standing out like a sore thumb, whatever that means.”
“Fran’s right,” Krola, the female on his right, said, “all the signals we’ve intercepted show people dressed alike and all facing the same way. Look around; everyone is pointing their visual receptors in a different direction. I’m concerned, Ari. I’m afraid we might be rumbled if we don’t come together and be closer to what the natives expect to see.”
“What are you worried about, Krola? What seems out of place?”
“Do you need to ask? Bree isn’t even wearing anything like Terran clothes. And she still has her antennae on!”
“Do you want me to talk to her?”
“Not your place to, Ari. That’s the High Commander’s job. Hang on. Look at the High Commander, Ari!”
“What about him, Krola?”
“Can’t you see? He’s losing cohesion; he’s unstable; he can’t hold the form any longer!”
“He is, isn’t he? And it’s getting worse. Okay.” Ari approached his boss.
“Begging your forgiveness, Mr High Commander, Sir.”
“Wha-whey-wha-wha-what do you wa-wa-wayoo-want?” the High Commander almost managed to ask.
“Your simulation fields are failing, High Commander. I’m relieving you and taking command. Stand down please, Sir.”
“No-n-n-no-no-no. Yes. I suppose you’re right.” [It didn’t come out that clearly, but you can use your imagination, can’t you?]
“Thank you, Sir.” Turning to the rest of the team, he said, “Stop after this chant. When all the natives have returned to their units, we’ll go back to the Droidette and talk about what happened here. See what lessons we can learn.”
The singing stopped at the end of the verse, and all the campers made their way back to the safety of their vehicles.
As suddenly, and as invisibly to the campers, as the group had appeared, they disappeared again, re-materialising in the briefing chamber of the Droidette and reverting to their customary form that closely resembled Chartreuse mucus with bright red lux enhancers and similarly hued bulbous antennae.
“I thought that went well,” the High Commander said.
“What?” Ari blurted out, “In what universe was that incursion a success?”
“”We made three hundred and forty-seven euros,” came the reply.
I wrote this in response to Kreative Kue 57, issued on this site earlier this week. Feel free to join in; just follow the link.